


Faded in time

by AlexiusWolf



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF male Cadash, Character Death, Continuous saving of Hawke family, Gen, MC with riddiculous luck, Solas is not absolute fanatic here, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, sarcastic MC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiusWolf/pseuds/AlexiusWolf
Summary: The world ended. Solas pulled the switch and everything went to hell. Unexpectedly inquisitor found himself at the beginning again. Just another castless dwarf in Orzamar. He is determined to change his fate and if the fate of Thedas changes as well...all the better right? They just need to look for another poor sod to play an inquisitor.(Starting with Dragon Age Origins, will continue until Inquisition. MC is a male dwarf inquisitor with different starting background.)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 10





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I have decided to play in a world of Dragon Age. To stack the blocks differently, because my friend wanted time travel. We will see where it will get us...
> 
> As always, English isn't my first language and I don't have a beta reader...so be lenient about mistakes. Plus autocorrect is an evil thing that interrupts your thought process and assumes everything. It gets worse on phones when you are trying to write in a different language then what is its main setting. Evil I tell you.
> 
> Some of the folklore I will be using comes from games or books...but some will be just magicked up by me because I wanted an easy way around it. Or they are thought up by my friend and I couldn't find any other explanation and just included it in as she wanted. She loves to look for plot holes...it's annoying

_The world broke around him. The sense of betrayal was deep and painful. Why? Confusion. He was so confused as his body disintegrated. Pain. Stubbornness. He was a dwarf, not some fade walker! This wasn't right. Plane stretched around him as well as his awareness. He knew this place. He didn't want to be here. People were disappearing. Humans, dwarves, quanari, even elves. Despair. Some of them just vanished, others overcome by strong emotions became spirits. This was what he wanted? To be alone in this stretch of nothing? What was the point? Didn't he agree, that this was unnecessary? Wrath. Oh, he was going to punch some sense into that idiot! His soul burned._


	2. It's time to run...

Sangrin sat up with a shout.  
  
“That fucking knife-eared dick!”  
  
He tried to calm his panicked gasps as he looked around the room. He was certain he died or at least lost this body. Was this an afterlife? Quite a letdown. Taking a deep breath he lifted his hand. His missing hand. His mind went numb. He stumbled from the bed to nearest reflective surface. It didn't clear his confusion at all. It was his face, but years younger. He still had long dark hair and beard. He was sure, he shaved it once his dealing with Carta led him to free marches and onto the surface. He looked around the room again. If his memories didn't lie, then this was his room. In dust town. When he was young, naïve and still slaved under Beraht. His hands shook. He needed to know a date. No, knowing a year would be sufficient. He promptly ransacked his room, looking for it.  
  
Disbelief was the main emotion running through him. It was two years before the Fifth Blight. He was in the past. Was this a dream? He caught strands of his long beard and tore it. The string of vulgarities followed. That was painful. Did he truly became an inquisitor, fought ancient one and witnessed the end of their world? If all that truly happened, then there were violent times coming. Or maybe he just succumbed to madness. He laughed crazily. He needed to calm down.  
  
So he got up and slowly changed his clothes, put on leather armour and packed his meagre belongings. He wasn't sure where he should be at this time, if there was any job waiting for him. But it didn't matter, he was jumping this ship. He had years of smuggling and shady dealing under his belt. He learned a lot as the leader of inquisition, made many contacts. It might not have happened yet, but he knew where and for who to look. What was safe and what wasn't. He could do this. And this time some other poor sod will be lauded as Herald of Andraste. He wasn't losing his hand again and if this world goes to shit, he now knows who to thank for it.  
  
He took his war hammer into his hands. Its weight familiar and reassuring. He missed this. Once he lost his hand he gave up upon two-handed weapons and needed to retrain himself. But he lost his edge. The overwhelming strength he possessed and years of weapon mastery wasted. He still could go toe to toe with Iron Bull in strength contests. He might be younger and not as strong again, but his reflexes were always good and he can retrain his muscle memory. He could feel his still untrained muscles and hands missing blisters. It won't be this way for long.  
  
Crack!  
  
His doors were thrown open. He was startled as sobbing girl hurled into his room. His eyes widened in surprise. It was Rica. Sister of his childhood friend Faren. The three of them grew up together in dust town, trying to climb up from this cesspool of filth. Born casteless in Orzammar, where rank meant everything was a curse. After Faren death, he gave up on trying to climb that impossible ladder and left. It was ironic, but all his struggles felt meaningless once on the surface. There was no caste and he was still the lowest filth. He lost contact with her after that. He had heard, that she married as she wished, but it was an unhappy and short affair. Died as well in the walls of Orzammar not long after her brother. She shakily stood before him, young and alive. His breath caught. Did it mean that Faren was alive as well?  
  
“Sangrin! You need to help me! Brother...they imprisoned brother!” She cried and shuttered.  
  
Sangrin hid his face in his palms in disbelief. How could he forget this? Rica grabbed his hands and squeezed them as she looked into his eyes. She looked nervous.  
  
“Please! I know you don't want to piss off Beraht, but he will kill brother! I don't have anyone else to go to. Please.”  
  
Sangrin sighed. He remembered, that at the time they didn't have enough money to get him out of prison and all cashed favours were of little help. Before they could get him out Faren died. But it wasn't the problem now, was it? He knew where to get the money and what favours will help. So he nodded.  
  
“Go pack yours and Faren things and wait for us near the entry to smugglers passage in Aeducan Thaig.” Ricas eyes widened.  
  
“But that entrance is guarded! We won't be able to go through there!”  
  
“Don't worry about it. Just do as I said.”  
  
Rica hesitated again looking at Sangrin, but hadn't said anything more and left to do her own packing. Sangrin looked around his now empty room. He nodded. This time it will be different. He grinned and promptly went to steal necessary funds.

  
  


To get all his favours took him longer than stealing the money. But everything was prepared and Beraht didn't have time to kill Faren yet. He was still dealing with the mess the idiot left on the Proving grounds. It was bad luck it ended that way, but if he had just reported it to Beraht, the one in deep shit would be Everd, Beraht chosen warrior. Sangrin sighed. His friend truly never thought his action through. Or someone talked him into this. That was more likely.  
  
Getting to Beraht's estate was easier, than to Beraht himself. Sangrin was after all small fish, not worth mentioning. He used all of his experiences from the future to get to the bastard, negotiate his friend release and their collective freedom from Carta. It was possible only because all of them underestimated him. Also, it cost a lot of gold and Beraht hadn't believed that Sangrin had the funds to support his claims. All the eyes around the table almost fell off once he produces the gold. Sangrin sniggered in his mind. Beraht will be hopping mad once he realizes that most of his hidden personal caches were empty. Karma was a bitch. He will give her standing ovation and some flowers. Once the deal was completed Jarvia took him to prison cells. He found Faren resignedly laying on the filthy floor.  
  
“Up, you filth! Sangrin came to bale you out.” Jarvia sneered. Sangrin was sure that was woman's default expression. Faren sat up and stared in open-mouthed disbelief at Sangrin.  
  
“Pick your jaw and put on the armour. We don't have much time.” Said Sangrin as Jarvia opened the cell. As he waited on Faren, the dwarf in the next cell started to whine.  
  
“What about me?” He yelped when Jarvia hit his fingers on the bars and sneered.  
  
“You are on your own. Beraht will decide your fate.”  
  
Sangrin ignored them and left with Faren. Faren tried to ask some questions, but Sangrin ignored him as well and dragged him to meet Rica. She waited long enough. When she saw them, she cried and desperately hugged Faren.  
“I thought it was hopeless. How could you do something so stupid.”  
  
“I am so sorry, sister.” Faren looked ashamed as he hugged his sister back. He also thought it was hopeless and he would die in that dungeon. He looked at impatient Sangrin and felt like he was drowning in question. How did he do it and where did he get the money?  
  
“We don't have time for this, come on we are running out of time.” Prompted them impatient Sangrin. Both siblings looked at each other and followed their reticent friend. They watched surprised as he exchanged some quiet words with the guard and gave him a pouch. Most probably filled with money. After that guard quietly let them through. Both siblings were confused.  
  
“Where are we going Sangrin?” Asked Faren.  
  
“We are leaving Orzammar.” Was Sangrins quiet reply.  
  
“What?!” Exclaimed both siblings at the same time. Sangrin glared at them.  
  
“You!” He poked Faren chest with his finger. “Caused mess on Proving grounds! Casteless! If Beraht didn't kill you, then the council would!” Faren gulped and took a step back. He never knew his friend could be so terrifying. Then Sangrin levelled Rica with the same piercing stare. “And what do you think would happen once Faren was dead? That they would leave you alone?” Rica's breath shuttered and her words died in her throat. They both knew Sangrin was right.  
  
“So where are we going?” Rica asked in a small voice. Sangrin closed his eyes and shrugged.  
  
“We might have got rid of Beraht, but Carta has log fingers and there will be a price on Faren head once council realize we slipped away. The traditionalist won't let it go.”  
  
Faren worriedly looked at his sister and friend.  
  
“So what should I do?” He looked uncertain. It was understandable, they didn't know much about the world outside. All their young life was spent slaving in Orzammar. Sangrin was different, but his friend didn't know that. And it wasn't like he had his contacts at this time.  
  
“We don't have contacts necessary for you to disappear. Even if we leave Ferelden, we will leave behind a trail they could follow.”  
  
Rica and Faren looked glumly at each other.  
  
“But...if you join Grey Wardens, they will have no way to get you.”  
  
“Grey wardens?!” Faren looked surprised.  
  
“It's better than dying in Berahts dungeon, or hiding like a rat in Orlais or Free Marches.” Shrugged Sangrin.  
  
“What about you or Rica?”  
  
“There isn't any bounty on our heads and Rica can do whatever she wants, bar going back to that shithole. And she is better with her daggers than you are with your shield.”  
  
Both siblings looked wide-eyed at their friend. When his words sank in, Rica levelled her brother with a smug look. Training with Sangrin was like trying to take down an ogre on your own, but she could manage to flay her brother ass.  
“Did you plan to leave Orzamar? Before all this mess? Alone?”  
  
Faren looked uncertainly at his childhood friend. Sangrin didn't. At least not so soon. It would take him another two years and mess that Orzammar became during Fifth Blight to move his ass. But that was in the past where he lost his friend and realized what of a dead-end was his life in that dust town hell. So he just nodded.

  
  


It took them a week to get out of Deep Roads. Sangrin at the end of his tether proceeded to shave his beard and cut his hair. It was just getting in the way and he wasn't used to it any more. He saw his friends giving him side glances when they thought he wasn't paying attention. He understood their confusion. He never was a talkative person, but now he was quieter. Not only in speech but his whole presence. He was more intense and less relaxed. And apparently, his eyes were toxic green now. The colour of the fade. He wanted to reassure them, but he hadn't seen them for more than two decades. They were old wounds and forgotten memories. To see them alive and young again was confusing, unnatural.  
  
But they didn't pay much attention to his changes overwhelmed by the outside world. It was their first time on the surface. Well, for Faren and Rica. Their first reactions were amusing to Sangrin. They asked a lot of questions, to which Sangrin had answers. It didn't surprise them that much as Sangrin always liked to read and learn. He was an odd duck in poor dust town, between casteless dwarves. They were glad about it now. The novelty of the surface slowly wore down as they spent rainy days travelling through Coastland by North Road to Denerim.  
  
Sangrin realized that he didn't miss Orzammar. He liked stone and tunnels like any other dwarf, but he could feel the presence of stone anywhere. It was an integral part of the earth and he didn't need to be surrounded by it to feel comfortable. His friends were dealing with the absence of the tunnels easily enough. Rica with better balance than Faren. He remembered Cassandra's question about where was his home. He didn't tell them that he was a rat from Orzamar. They just assumed he came from Free Marches, where was his most bloody dealing with Carta, therefore his most easily found out actions. He didn't consider dwarven city his home at all and he didn't need some stationed house to keep him balanced. He liked to travel, move around, meet different people, discover hidden places and forgotten artefacts. He would be freer without interference from Carta now. It felt liberating.  
  
Sangrin looked at his friends. He didn't plan to travel with them. It wasn't like they were a burden to him. But he wished to be alone again. At least for a moment to clear his thoughts and straighten up his goals. The position of the inquisitor was suffocating. He wasn't afraid to do the hard choices or to lead an organisation and its forces. But it was a stifling position and he couldn't just pack his shit and leave whenever he wanted without telling anyone about it. It was so annoying. He would love to meet the people again and make friends with them, but this time not as an inquisitor.  
  
So Sangrin decided to bring his friends to Denerim and let then decide their fate. As he said to Faren, it was easiest for him to join the Order to avoid trouble from Carta and Orzammar traditionalist council. Sangrin knew that joining was dangerous and not everybody lived through it. Also, it cut the lifespan of the individual and the calling at the end was just creepy. But he knew the Blight was coming and it was his friend best bet to live through it. Maybe Faren won't make it, but in Sangrin eyes, he already lived on borrowed time. He didn't want to be cruel or uncaring, but he didn't plan to babysit them either. If they, in the end, decided to leave Ferelden, he would help them. So Sangrin told his friends everything he could presumably know about Wardens at this time, for them to do the informed decision on their own.  
  
Sangrin remembered Ostagar fiasco as well. He would try to think about how to resolve it if his friends decided to join the Order. He probably couldn't do much, but he knew Faren trusted in his judgement and would listen to his warnings if he had necessary proof. So he could just chase all the rumours he heard at the time and the things he learned in the future about Blight. And if his actions resulted in more lives saved and wardens alive, it might not end up in such a mess as in that different past. Because Sangrin life was already different. He hoped it was for the better.

  
  


Denerim, the capital city of Ferelden, was a sprawling city attached to Dragon's Peak. They could see Fort Drakon and city walls from far away. Sangrin knew that even after sacking of the fort during Fifth Blight, the city hadn't changed much. It took a few years to repair and even that because they ignored most of the damage caused to Alienage. Sangrin told a short history of the city to Faren and Rica. He mentioned bare facts about Andraste, Chantry, compared city laws to their knowledge about Orzammar and dust town, detailed relations between nobility, low-borne citizens and other races. This led to Rica and Faren disgusted faces. Sangrin understood, but they shouldn't judge so quickly. It isn't like dwarven caste system was any better. Plus there was always discrimination between races. It depended entirely on individuals to see beyond their close-minded views.  
  
Chastised Rica and Faren asked more questions about humans and elves and their culture. Sangrin told them most of what keepers of memories in Orzammar knew and he could justify knowing. He asked them to keep an open mind and hold on their judgement of individuals. To base it on their impression of them, not their race. He described Ferelden human nobility system, mentioned current young king Cailan and few important nobles he could remember. With a sense of irony, he told them about suppressed Alienage and discord between city elves and dalish elves.  
  
They talked about mages and templars when they passed by Circle Tower on Lake Calenhad. There wasn't any dwarven mage ever, so they weren't interested in magic much as a race. He knew that few dwarves in smith caste in Orzammar sometimes showed interest. They did work with lyrium most of the time, so it was understandable. Rica had a friend by the name of Dagna, who wished to study magic. Which was odd and Sangrin doubted that she would be allowed to do that.  
As they neared the main city gates Sangrin asked his friends what they wished to do. Siblings looked at each other and Faren asked.  
  
“What will you do?” Sangrin hadn't expected this question, but shrugged his shoulders and answered truthfully.  
  
“I will snoop around a little. If you decide to join Wardens then I will wait with you to know the results of your joining. If you decide to leave then I will find a way to get funds for us to go to Free Marches.”  
  
“And after our Joining?” Insisted Rica.  
  
Sangrin was surprised. Had Rica wanted to join the Wardens as well? He expected she would find a job in Denerim instead. While she was a talented rogue, she didn't enjoy fighting that much. Rica nodded and with helpless expression said.  
  
“I want to keep brother out of trouble. You know he is just asking for a beating most of the time.”  
  
Faren breathed out an affronted sound and puffed out his chest. Sangrin laughed. Rica wasn't wrong. Her brother was a trouble magnet. She and Sangrin ended up in a lot of questionable dangerous situations because of him and his unending curiosity. Rica and Sangrin grinned at each other, but she quickly became serious again.  
  
“Joining Grey Wardens is a good cause and Faren doesn't have that many opinions. I think they have a noble purpose and we could do some good. If what you said about their numbers is true, then Ferelden will be in deep trouble if Blight brakes out. So? What about you? I don't think you wish to join the Order.”  
  
Sangrin shook his head. There was no way he would bind himself to another organisation when he was finally free of Carta and it's dealing. There was no inquisition with expectation and burdens for its inquisitor. No pressing issue or imminent end of the world.  
  
“I will travel. If you two join the Wardens then I will go check some rumours I have heard. I know of a way to keep in touch with you two, so I could help if you were in a troubling situation.” He smiled at his friends. He might not want them to travel together, but they were his childhood friends. He would not leave them on their own. Not if he could help them. They promptly huddled Sangrin into a group hug.  
  
“Thank you so much Sangrin. You saved us.”  
  
“Don't worry about it.” Chuckled Sangrin.


	3. Grey Wardens

Main gates of Denerim were as imposing as Sangrin remembered. Guards gave them suspicious glances until he asked for a way to Grey Warden Compound. They might not be as popular outside of Blight as other organizations, but there were always volunteers to join their ranks. Guards gave them instructions on how to find the compound and let them pass. Sangrin could hear their whispers as he passed them.  
“Do you think they were conscripted?”  
  
“Does it matter? Be glad it's them, not you.”  
  
Truly not that popular in Ferelden. It was easy to find a compound as it was a big estate with high stone walls and big front gate. The front garden was nice and neat. The steward who opened the door was old but professional. They were led in and met with Roland. Tall muscular man with curly dark hair and brown eyes. The warrior was in charge of compound until warden-commander Duncan returned. It shouldn't be that long. He let Sangrin wait with his friends even after he stated he didn't wish to join with them.  
  
“There's no problem! We have a lot of free space!”  
  
Was Rolan jovial response. And he was right. The estate could house more than one hundred wardens. There weren't even ten of them when you counted missing commander as well. With all the necessary staff, Sangrin and his friends, he counted sixteen people altogether. Sangrin was sure that wardens were allowed into Ferelden for more than fifteen years already. Even counting in a fatality rate of their joining ritual, these numbers were pathetic. No wonder they were wiped out in Ostagar.  
  
  
  
It took almost a week for the commander to come back. In the meantime, Sangrin got to know other wardens. Most of them were human males. But there was lone human woman mage by the name of Muriel. She got conscripted from Markham Circle and followed Duncan into Ferelden. She was one of the first to join Ferelden ranks with Roland. Other two women were elves conscripted from Fort Drakon after they murdered the noble responsible for an assault on them in Denerim Alienage. They were harsh and unfriendly. It didn't bother Sangrin and his friends as they were used to worse behaviour. Their insults were quite plain and not that insulting to dwarves. Which Sangrin and Rica found hilarious and promptly tried to coach them in the proper method of insulting dwarven race. This endeared them to the two women.  
  
Sangrin was sitting on risers in an indoor training area watching Rica and Linn, one of the elven women, spar. Both of them were rogues and users of long daggers. Their spars were very productive as they could spot each other mistakes and give advice when needed. Kallian, another elven warrior, sat next to Sangrin. They quietly watched their friends for a while.  
  
“Rica told us, you were the one to teach her fighting. You don't look like a rogue. I saw a war hammer in your quartets.”  
  
Sangrin glanced at Kallian and shrugged.  
  
“I am not nimble enough to be proficient rogue, but I know how to use most of the weapons. Before I learned to regulate my strength I went through weapons like a scattered nug shit. When you can't afford to replace your weapon, you learn to use what is at hand.”  
  
Kallian jiggled. She found the dwarves that joined the compound quite funny. To insult them was near impossible, they were quite straightforward and asked when they weren't sure about something. They didn't differentiate between races or genders. Their behaviour to them was the same as to Rolan, second in command in the compound, or the compound staff. She wasn't the only one who found their behaviour refreshing. Muriel, as the mage, found this equality unexpected. Warden or not, most of the people took their beliefs and prejudices with them when they joined. She asked Rica about it and the girl told her that they were born casteless in a system where your standing was everything. There was no difference between genders, beliefs or race. All of them were just dregs of their society. The only thing that mattered was your ability to survive. They were less than a speck of dust in the eyes of others, same insignificant existence.  
  
Kallian found their experiences sobering. Life in Alienage was horrible, human nobles were disgusting, but they weren't treated like a plague by their own people. She sighed. Evidently, there were worse places than her home. She glanced at Sangrin.  
  
“Why don't you want to join with Rica and Faren?”  
  
“I like moving around, exploring...and...I don't wish to be bound and have anyone to tell me where to go and what to do. Besides...” Sangrin grinned. “There is no guarantee you will live to join the wardens.”  
  
Kallian looked surprised, but it was no secret that being the warden wasn't an easy feat and becoming one could be fatal. If she was truthful, she envied Sangrin. He was courageous, helpful, unbending in his beliefs and choices, unafraid to stand up for himself and others. If she wasn't conscripted she would have died. Sometimes she thought about Nelaros and what would have been if that noble bastard hadn't shown up. But Nelaros was dead, killed while trying to save her, and her wishful thinking was pointless. She felt like she lived in limbo from a moment she became a grey warden. She hesitated.  
  
“Don't you think that Faren and Rica would be happier back in Orzammar?”  
  
Sangrin snorted.“No. Faren would be dead after the mess he made on the Proving grounds and Rica might find that potential suitor, who would see her as a waste of space. What's done is done.”  
  
Sangrin looked intensely at Kallian. She felt like he could see her soul. That toxic green eyes could strip all the walls she built around herself. It wasn't possible, but this dwarf had a unique air around him. Like he had seen all the worst and the best of this world and embraced it.  
  
“Besides, you are looking at it the wrong way,” Sangrin stated. Kallian frowned.  
  
“Wrong way?”  
  
“They might have stepped into unknown and it scary and unfamiliar. But when something ends, something else begins. This is not their end, but beginning with unknown potential. It might become a disaster, it might be a blessing. That depends entirely on them.”  
  
Sangrin stood, stretched and looked at a frozen Kallian.  
  
“You are no longer bound by your place of birth. You are a warden now Kalian. And nobody can bound you to their will again. The choices for this life are yours alone.”  
  
With these parting words, Sangrin left the compound to snoop around a little and to look for a trained hawk. He was better at snooping than he thought, some of the Coles teachings must have brushed on him because he wasn't found out and discovered some juicy rumours. He felt invisible. He was determined to be more aware of Cole once he meets him again.  
  
King Cailan was the goofy, useless and idiotic man he expected. The more he learned about Logain, the less he was surprised he abandoned king and grey wardens at Ostagar. He might have raised the current king, but the future of Ferelden was more important to him. And Ostagar was a mess. His action while understandable could not be excused. But the man didn't have all the necessary information at the time and with the death of the king, their infighting intensified. His best bet to keep wardens alive was to preserve the current king. The king might be a buffoon, but he tried to reach out to Orlais for help and was open to working with others for the betterment of his country. He was also a key to keep this powder keg of a country together. But for that, he needed more information about the movements of an archdemon and his horde.  
  
After Sangrin determined his new goal he went to look for a trained bird. He learned from Leliana how to key the recipients with magic, so it knows where they are at all times and could deliver their messages. She worked mostly with crows as it was easy to train them and they could hold magic without any focus. But if he had some jewellery it can be applied to any trained bird.  
  
He found young falcon with bluish feathers, found a golden clasp with embedded sapphire to put on falcons leg and bullied his friends to provide necessary blood. Muriel was delighted to help, so she could learn new magic. Sarin showed them the necessary steps to produce reliable message courier. Rica and Faren were content that they could keep in touch with their wandering friend.  
  
  


Warden-commander Duncan was a reliable steady man, who was happy to see two potential volunteers. He came with a young dalish elf dodging his footsteps. The elf looked ill. The net of black blood vessels under his skin indicated he was infected by the Blight. Sangrin was sure he had more than a year before the horde will show up on Ferelden doorsteps. But this was proof that archdemon was active and awake. Darkspawns just didn't run around on a surface without someone in command.  
  
Duncan promptly prepared the ritual as the elf didn't have much time before he could no longer fight the infection. Sangrin still thought that it was damn impressive he managed to last this long. Maybe someone from his tribe knew Duncan and asked for commanders help. The infection could be prevented or offset a little, but there was no cure for it. Even joining Grey Wardens was only a way to make your body live with the infection. He waited with nervous Faren and Rica, while they expected to be called. The elf was sullenly standing on the side, pretending they weren't there. Sangrin looked at Faren highly amused. His friend looked like he would vibrate out of his own skin. He stopped Faren pacing, grabbed his shoulders and made him look into his eyes.  
  
“Relax. Nothing you will do will change the outcome. It's already written down. If you will become a warden, you will fulfil your new duties with pride.” Sangrin smiled gently at his friend. “If you die, I will bring your body back to the stone.”  
  
Faren stared at his oldest friend and felt the tension leaving his frame. In his peripheral vision, he could see Rica also relaxed. He didn't understand how Sangrin always knew what people around him needed to hear. Maybe it was because the other dwarf barely talked, but his words were always thought out and spoken carefully. He never promised anything he thought he couldn't fulfil. For Faren and Rica, Sangrin word was as good as an oath. The dalish elf was giving them wide-eyed look full of surprise and desperation. With pursed lips, he glanced at the ground. He wished he also had someone to take care of his rites. He looked up and saw that the dwarf with toxic green eyes was looking at him. He straightened his spine and lifted his chin. He didn't need anybody pity.  
  
Sangrin studied elf vallaslin. It covered his whole face and if he remembered right it should represent Andruil the Huntress. It had an entirely different meaning and a feeling of pride, that the tattoo branding his own face was missing.  
“What clan do you belong to?” Sangring asked the quiet elf. The elf frowned, agitated and unfriendly.  
  
“Why do you want to know?”  
  
Sangrin shrugged, unbothered by obvious antagonism. The elf would need to try harder to get the rise out of him.  
  
“To offer the same courtesy if necessary.”  
  
The elf was startled. There wasn't an inch of a pity in Sangrin eyes, no hidden motives. The heavy silence descended onto the room. Then elf offered in a whisper.  
  
“Sabrae...”  
  
There was quiet cough and they looked at waiting Duncan, who gazed at Sangrin with a complicated look in his eyes. Probably heard their conversation then. He gestured at three volunteers and led them quietly into the room. Sangrin sat on the bench and waited for the results of the ritual.  
  
  


In an unprecedented stroke of blind luck, all three of them survived and became new wardens. Sangrin spent some time in a state of disbelief. Then he thought about upcoming Blight and uncertain future that they will face. Maybe it wasn't luck, but a curse. The one that died first had it easiest after all. He also thought that most wishes for good luck were potential curses. After all, only in hindsight, you could judge true positivity of situations and actions. Even then it was fixated on the subjective perspective of an individual. After all your good luck could be a death sentence for someone else. In Sangrins opinion, luck wasn't good or bad, just unexpected, surprising and entirely unpredictable.  
  
It was time for him to be on the road. He had already spent too much time in warden compound. It was time to get his thoughts and future memories in order. He knew he will forget them slowly. But it wasn't that important. He already noted most important things he needed to remember and the rest will stay the same or will change in time. History wasn't set in stone. Faren was still alive after all. That also meant that his memories weren't absolute and the world will change around them depending on the actions of individuals. It was oddly soothing for Sangrin to know that he saw a possible future, not an absolute outcome. That it could be changed and shaped. It might be worse, but it could be better as well. This uncertainty was unsuspectingly freeing.  
  
He stood before the front gate of the compound and smiled at Faren and Rica. He saw other wardens lurking in the background, but he already said his goodbyes. Sangrin grabbed Farens hand and brought their foreheads together.  
  
“Be well my friend and listen to your sister. She will be right most of the time.”  
  
Rica chuckled on the side and Faren snorted.  
  
“ Be safe Sangrin and share the word of your adventures with us.”  
  
Sangrin repeated the gesture with Rica.  
  
“Be well and don't let your brother drag you into troubles. You know better than that.”  
  
This time Rica chuckle was a little watery.  
  
“You know that's impossible Sangrin. Avoid danger and meet with us again. Stone be with you.”  
  
“Stone be with you.” Echoed Faren as well.  
  
Sangrin nodded, turned around and without another glance left Denerim. There was an adventure waiting for him. He was determined to change the conclusion of Ostagar battle. For that, he needed to be in a position where they would listen to him. So he will go chase vague leads for information of current darkspawn horde and archdemon. His friends will become liaisons between him and grey wardens. He will make sure that no one could dismiss the upcoming threat this time. That they were aware of numbers they would face and futility of the individual struggle. That without help there was no bright future waiting for them.  
  
Sangrin also planned to search hidden ruins, follow truths in ancient tales and bring out secret artefacts. He will become an explorer and learn old secrets. After all, he needed a way to excuse his wast knowledge. Sangrin knew that Deep Roads encompassed all Thedas. You could travel under the surface from Ferelden to every corner of the continent. It wasn't completely mapped, most of the roads were blocked or defective in some way. But it was still possible to travel through them. Darkspawns were the obvious proof of that. Sangrin never had a problem with finding his way in tunnels, he just needed to listen to the stone.  
  
He remembered his talks with Leliana about Hero of Ferelden, her fervent wish that the man was alive instead of dead and sacrificed. But the killing of Archdemon required a sacrifice of a grey warden. He sighed. Some things were evidently inevitable. Thanks to Leliana he had a vague idea of where to start his search for answers. He would do something nice for the woman once he meets her again. He hoped the people he once knew would live in this new reality and he would get a chance to become acquainted with them. For better or worse he could only hope.


	4. Footprints left behind through the letters

Sangrin wasn't sure if he regretted knowing some things. To be aware of the truth was important, but as they said, ignorance was sweet, even if it didn't justify the actions of individuals. The truth about broodmothers was disgusting, horrifying, but he couldn't regret learning about it. And unfortunately, he will spread the word about them. He learned about the Architect as well. It reminded him of Coripheus, even if the darkspawn didn't remember his life before turning. Who knows if it was a blessing in itself. But while both of them were free of the compulsion to follow the call of the Old Gods, they were determined to bring their own version of the peace at all costs. Twisted and just plain wrong. In the end, they were the same as Solas, determined to bring their own version of the world. All three of them saw it as a mercy to the twisted souls of this unnatural plane. Deluded, all of them. Sangrin wasn't sure if he should start resolving their mind with their murder. It would definitely be easier on him.  


_ Dear Faren and Rica, _

_ Your last two letters were hilarious. Did Kallian already punched Theron or did the dalish elf dialled back on his condescension? I can't see it happening, so his nose is probably broken. I will think about your suggestion on mapping the Deep Roads I have already snooped through. Your argument was sound and I will try to produce something useable.  _  
  
_ I was out of the touch for so long because I stumbled upon darkspawn horde. I followed the trail of kidnapped women and learned what horrifying fate descended upon them. They were turned into broodmothers. This disgusting tainted creature ruled by hunger is what is producing darkspawns. It is the fate worse than death and killing them is extremely hard. At least when you are doing it on your own. I have attached some documents I have managed to salvage and put my observations on the separate sheet. _  
  
_ Also, I heard about darkspawn responsible for this madness. He calls himself the Architect and evidently isn't ruled by the Call as other darkspawn. He is highly intelligent and absolutely mad. I haven't met him yet but saw some of the results of his experiments on humans and dwarves he manages to catch. It's disturbing. I will try to learn more, but I am not sure I will find anything without getting killed first. He can command other darkspawn to do his bidding. _  
  
_ On a lighter note, I have stumbled upon some elven ruins not far from Amaranthine. I got lost in Wending Woods and found two weird statues, who claimed to be brothers and cursed Avvars. One of them is set on his vengeance, which is pointless and will bring him nothing. But after I heard most of their whining and offered some constructive criticism, the calmer one showed me hidden trail. I snooped around and in attached sheets, you will find the copy of murals and other interesting pieces of information. I also found medallion of Andruil. Theron might be interested. After all, he has her symbol tattooed on his face. _

_ Hopefully with better news later, _  
_ Sangrin _

  


_ Dear Sangrin, _

_ Your last letter caused quite an uproar in our modest ranks. So I will relay some of the requests the other wardens want from you in a separate sheet. _  
  
_ Kallian had not only broken Theron nose, but she beat the shit out of him in her rage. Theron is now walking on eggshells around her and hasn't said anything condescending in a while. He also wants to know how you recognize his vallaslin. But your information and medallion cheered him up. He has become much more accommodating towards Faren and me. _  
  
_ How do you always find all the hidden places and things? Do you have some secret sixth sense? Does the Stone whisper you it's secrets? We find your tales thrilling and fascinating, learn something new in each package you send to us. Kallian, Theron and Muriel are always the most interested ones and they wish you successful secret hunting.  _  
  
_ Your information about broodmothers horrified most of the wardens, but Duncan didn't look surprised when he heard about the Architect. He evidently already met the mad darkspawn. He didn't go into any detail but recommended to be extra cautious in your dealings with him. Please don't do anything reckless and stupid. With that said, WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU BATTLED WITH BROODMOTHER ON YOUR OWN!!! Do you have a death wish!? We will beat some sense into you once you show up at compound again. _

_ Pissed off, _  
_ Rica _  


As Sangrin investigated the Deep Road through Ferelden he tried to avoid darkspawn that dodged his footsteps. It was nerve-wracking. As the year progressed their numbers multiplied and slowly became truly alarming. Sangrin knew that Duncan has warned the king and insisted that they reach for help to Orlais. After all King Cailan was acquainted with the empress and with the mounting evidence of darkspawn activity, it wasn't hard to make himself heard. Also, Sangrin knew that negotiations this time came sooner and were more informed. His findings were supported by evidence wardens managed to scrape from Sangrin scattered information trail. They couldn't effectively search underground like Sangrin, but thanks to his pieces of information, they could find the crucial evidence supporting the awakening of Archdemon and upcoming Blight.   


_ Dear Faren and Rica, _

_ You wouldn't be very surprised to know, that there is a labyrinth of underground roads under Korcari Wilds. Both naturally and unnaturally created. Underground waterway plays a big role in this labyrinth, but darkspawn are also extremely active here creating new openings to the surface. It's all exceedingly fishy. _  
  
_ I have met some Chasind warriors and we have duked it out in a battle of a lone dwarf against many. I was a victor, which have elevated my standing between their tribes. It's truly flattering and a little disturbing. In a separate sheet, I have attached some of their customs, which will hopefully clear up my new standing as a beloved one of the gods. I am still not sure about the details. Their trails are very helpful in navigating around the marshes. It surprised them that I could navigate by it. That resulted in my acceptance and great celebration. The wildwine is quite wicked. Don't let the name mislead you, it's definitely not a wine, but hard alcohol made from ryott.  _  
  
_ Also, their Shaman crafted a really nice war hammer with ice properties for me. It's sturdy, heavy and made from metal I haven't seen yet. And that says something. We are dwarves after all. Also, Chasinds are the most stealthy people I have ever met. Which explains why they are so depressed about their ambushes not working on me. Don't know why are they still trying. Maybe it has become some kind of test for them. So I don't recommend travelling Wilds with me as your companion.  _  
  
_ By the way, I have found an old grey warden tower. There was chest with signed treaties. The magic on it wouldn't last long, so I have attached them to this letter. Give them to Duncan, so he can force others to help you guys.  _

_ Very unamused, _  
_ Sangrin _

  


_ Dear Sangrin, _  


_ You, my dear friend, are the weirdest dwarf in existence. Your letters continue to awe and confuse our colleagues. But thanks to your exploits we gain new information and knowledge every day. If you continue your insane journey you will surely become a legend between Ferelden wardens. I am not joking. New recruits are gaining some sort of weird worship for you and obvious respect from older wardens isn't helping. _  
  
_ The newest batch of initiates wasn't as successful as mine and Ricas joining. The most obnoxious one from the latest array of recruits goes by the name of Alistair. I suspect he is related in some way to the king. This idiocy must be hereditary. Rica and Linn are on the warpath because of his latest prank. He won't last long against the two of them.  _  
  
_ I have finally managed to not embarrass myself or others in the latest council with the king. His aide, teyrn Loghain is as obnoxious as ever, but he finally conceded in his arguments about the help from Orlais and we will be welcoming their grey wardens and chevaliers in upcoming months. It is a slow going, but we might be prepared when darkspawn horde shows up on the surface. We all can only hope. _

_ Highly amused, _  
_ Faren _  


Sangrin in his attempt to avoid the darkspawn horde went deeper and deeper into the Deep Roads. He searched Thaigs and hidden tunnels to find safer paths. It was becoming harder to traverse them without an inevitable battle with darkspawn. The taint was spreading through the tunnels and darkspawn camps rose in numbers exponentially. Sangrin unexpectedly ended up in Dead Trenches. He met members of Dead Legion and helped them suppress the pushing darkspawn. Kardol and his legion were appropriately impressed and dubbed Sangrin a madman. Who else but a mad dwarf would traverse these roads overrun by darkspawn alone. But with his help, they finally managed to secure strategic locations.  
  
To the disgust of the whole legion, they discovered a broodmother and remnants of the servants belonging to Branka. Their interactions with Hespith, the only one tainted left aware and alive, were disturbing and Kardol killed her when she requested her end. Killing this broodmother was easier for Sangrin as this time he had the support of the legion. After he stated the fact that he already killed one on his own, he had received an honorary membership of the legion. Kardol gave him legion armour and send him after Branka.  
  
Once Sangrin managed to track the crazy woman down, she proceeded to lock him in trapped tunnels. Darkspawn and golems. This truly wasn't Sangrins day. It was a miracle he managed to survive that and was prepared to beat some sense into the woman. Instead, he met a walking and talking golem by the name of Caridin. Sangrin stared at the Paragon responsible for the creation of the Anvil of the Void. So this was the woman's goal. Then Branka proceeded to storm the place and proved her madness to Sangrin. She wished to use the Anvil to create more golems. While she claimed the use of the volunteers, Sangrin at the end of his tether snapped at her about Hespith and her volunteering. That shut her up pretty fast.  
  
While Branka and Caridin continued to argue about the necessary purpose of the Anvil for the dwarven race, Sangrin went to look at the artefact. He hoisted up the hammer laying on the ground next to it. If he used the hammer, he could potentially destroy it. Branka might be right about the capability of the golems, they were a great weapon. But it wasn't worth it at the cost of unliving victims. She could say whatever she wanted, Caridin was obviously a great example of where this kind of power led. And Branka was especially power-mad. Sangrin made his decision and swung with all his power. Destroying the Anvil proved to be easier than he thought. Satisfied he left behind two speechless individuals and proceeded to find his way out of this mess.  


_ Dear Sangrin, _

_ Why haven't you responded for so long? Are you dead? I hope not. Rica is prepared to storm the Deep Roads if we won't receive any response to our letters. I think it is unnecessary as you have proved to be a one-man army. I am sure you are doing something dangerous and irresponsible, which will royally piss of my sister. If you are dead, then be prepared to be resurrected and killed again. Her and Muriels words, not mine. _  
  
_ The situation here is shaping in a good direction, but as there is no word about archdemon yet, there is a lot of opposition from nobles. But they haven't barred orlesian grey wardens and chevaliers entry into Ferelden, so that's some good news. Although they are bitching about it a lot and it's wearing Duncan down, as he is the main recipient of the complaints with the king. It's a beautiful sight. We are all waiting for a moment when he snaps. He will probably burn down half of the Denerim with all the nobility in it in his rage. We will cheer on him. The man has the patience of a saint. _  
  
_ Also, we are compiling all the underground maps you have supplied. It's an amazing sight and Roland found a cartographer which will put it into a whole Ferelden map for us. We would be the first to have some resemblance of mapped Deep Roads. Do you know how jealous other dwarves will be? Mainly ones in Orzammar. I can't wait to stuff it down their throat. _

_ Very worried, _  
_ Faren _  


Sangrin regretted his life choices. As he crouched in a shadowy corner of some forgotten tunnel, he knew why they hadn't seen archdemon yet. Because darkspawn didn't finish digging it out of the stone yet. He also understood how the Architect could use it in a ritual as the creature couldn't really move. He knew that archdemon was a dragon and he met a lot of them as an inquisitor. Even Coripheus managed to own one. So they weren't truly unique, but he could see that this one was in a lot of pain as the taint spread at an alarming rate through its body. Dragons should be resistant to the taint, so the ritual must have done something to this one. The Architect probably failed where Coripheus succeeded in his attempt. Slavers and spreaders of the plague, the lot of them. Sangrin started leaning towards a decision to resolve their differences by killing them. It was the safest opinion. That insane lot should die for the safety of Thedas. Maybe Josephine was right and he truly dealt with his problems too violently. If he lived through this, he will find a way to complain to Solas about the mess his life became and he will punch him in the face.  


_ Dear Faren and Rica, _

_ There is truly no need for threats and panic. I was just a little busy. In an attempt to avoid the unnecessary conflict I went deeper into the Deep Roads. I have ended up meeting the Dead Legion in Dead Trenches. I offered to help them to secure their position and received an armour as thanks. Also, I have become an honorary member of the group as I was the first dwarf they met, that was mad enough to traverse underground alone. They also let me copy some of the more interesting pieces of information from their archives. I have attached them to this letter. _  
  
_ Unexpectedly in my search for the path not flooded with darkspawn I have met Caridin. Yes, I mean that famous paragon, the one that created the Anvil of the Void, the father of the golems. He himself ended up as a golem. I don't think he will be in that form for long. He sounded mighty unhappy about the outcome of his own actions. Anvil is unfortunately lost. It's truly a tragedy. I have copied the names that belonged to his house and also attached them to the letter. Could you send it to Orzammar to the Keepers of the Memories? I think they would be happy to see it. Your order has a better chance, they will take you seriously. _  
  
_ On a more interesting note, I know why you can't find your archdemon. The darkspawn haven't finished digging him out yet. I don't think it will take them too long to accomplish that. It was the first time I have contemplated that I might lack a sense of direction. But the Stone hasn't led me wrong and I found my way out. In full health even. As this letter can prove it. _

_ Relieved, _  
_ Sangrin _

  


_ Dear Sangrin, _

_ You are a dead dwarf walking. I will wring your neck once we will see each other face to face. Your frivolous tone and lack of self-preservation won't save you! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SAW ARCHDEMON!!! How soon do you think they will be finished? As you haven't offered the place where you found it, you don't think we have a chance for a preventive strike. As I don't know anybody else, dwarf or not, able to traverse the Deep Roads with the same ease as you, it's probably highly unlikely we will manage it before it is free. Please don't do it again. Quite a few people here were worried about you. _  
  
_ Some of the nobles are acting quite fishy. Don't know how to explain it, but after such a long time of forced interactions, it's a little puzzling. I think they are planning something. Mainly that rat Arl Howe. Duncan promised we could check it out when he goes to look for recruits in Highever. I and Faren will get to the root of it. _  
  
_ After your confirmation war council started to plan their first moves near Ostagar. So if you have some relevant information you will find us there in two months. We are expecting your participation. Two years is enough time for wandering without any visit. _

_ Planing your murderer, _  
_ Rica _


	5. Different strategy

Sangrin was in hurry. He didn't expect it would take him so long to get out of the Deep Roads from his last forage into them. He was trying to determine darkspawn movements, unfortunately, he tripped few of their traps and alerted them to his presence. He could agree with Rica remark about dead dwarf walking in those moments. He was truly unprecedentedly lucky to be still alive. Their current numbers were staggering. So much more than the human army, even with the added help of Orlesians. And they were getting surrounded without knowing it. The few skirmishes they won, made them complacent. He needed to warn them. They had to move and change their strategy or get more numbers. Anything.  
  
When he finally got rid of his tail, he heard sounds of a battle. He changed direction to offer some help. To his surprise, he saw Rica, Duncan, Theron and another human male warrior. Looks like he wasn't only late one here. Even with the help of a giant mabari hound, they were getting overwhelmed with superior numbers. So Sangrin threw his war hammer into the middle of the darkspawn group. It fell into their midst with booming sound and shower of ice magic. Darkspawn screeched, confused and hurt. Sangrin dived after his hammer and proceeded to lay waste to their numbers. With the lifted burden the defending group got a second breath and the following fight was over quite quickly.  
  
Sangrin was immediately glomped by Rica.  
  
“Sangrin! You were right, that hammer is amazing.”  
  
Sangrin sniggered and greeted Duncan and Theron, while Rica imitated a limped. He got introduced to the other human. His name was Aedan Cousland and his overgrown mabari was named Fenrir. Sangrin looked at the man, who based on his memories became a lauded hero of Ferelden. The man was a ball of deep despair and uncontrolled rage. It wasn't aimed at his companions, so it had most probably something to do with the rumours his friends mentioned in their letters. Rica quickly brought him into the whole picture. Arl Howe evidently sacked Cousland castle in Highever. Teyrn was dead, but they managed to save Aedan mother. But that meant that promised help from the north wasn't coming. Sangrin cursed colourfully and explained to them why they were in deep shit. The whole picture about darkspawn numbers and movements made them pale.  
  
“We should make haste.” Suggested Duncan.  
  
  
  
  
They were greeted personally by the king. Sangrin stared in horror at the gaudy golden armour and contemplated if the man was trying to provide the best target to the darkspawn. No wonder he died quickly. His frivolous attitude was annoying and by the look on Aedan and Theron faces he wasn't the only one who thought that. Few more minutes in the king company and he started to contemplate a regicide. Few times he tried to cut into the conversation, he was stopped violently by Rica. She knew that anything Sangrin wished to say would be offensive. So they were quiet and let Duncan outline the alarming news. That finally got a proper reaction from the king. Duncan told them to find their way in the camp and make preparations for new recruits, while he went with the king in search of Loghain.  
  
While Rica went to look for Alistair and rest of the recruits he was in charge off, Theron led Sangrin and Aedan to Grey Wardens. He was greeted with great enthusiasm. It took a while for Sangrin to make his rounds and chat with his acquaintances. They were greatly relieved to see him unharmed and Faren proceeded to collect his winnings from betting pool. It looked like Sangrin and his adventures were the main participants of their bets. Sangrin just shook his head and looked around. He saw Aedan sitting alone and it looked like his thoughts were spiralling down the drain. His mabari with his head in Aedan lap tried to catch his attention but was utterly unsuccessful. Sangrin grinned and decided to help the dog. He stepped up to Aedan and clapped him on the shoulder.  
  
“Don't let your thoughts spiral down like this. It's not good for your health.”  
  
Aedan frowned heavily, his rage surfaced again. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. When he was sure he won't spew some undeserved insults at the dwarf, he responded curtly.  
  
“I don't care! That snake killed my father and nobody cares! I don't want to wait! I want to talk to my brother. Why did they even send him to scout anything? For maker sake! He is a warrior!”  
  
Aedan sighed heavily as his anger lost its heat. Sangrin looked worriedly at a young human. Maybe talk with his brother was the thing he needed. It would be tragic to leave open ends if he became a hero again.  
  
“Okay. Let's look for your brother.”  
  
“What?!”  
  
Exclaimed surprised Aedan. Wasn't it a pointless gesture? Sangrin shrugged his shoulders with an uncomfortable expression on his face.  
  
“I have a way to find him quickly. So?”  
  
Aedan didn't understand, but Sangrin was offering a way for him to contact his brother, he would be stupid to refuse. Aedan nodded and stood up.  
  
“Excellent!”  
  
Rica voice surprised both males. They turned around and saw a grinning group.  
  
“We can all go. Ducklings have an errand to run.”  
  
All males behind her grimaced at their nickname. Alistair just chuckled feeling amused. Sangrin understood why Faren thought he was related to the king. At least by the looks. Rica made quick introductions and dragged them out of the camp. They needed to collect darkspawn blood. It didn't take them long to accomplish as there was a lot of darkspawn jumbling around. Then Sangrin followed a chasind trail. At the end of it, he took a deep breath and whistled a high note. It didn't take long. There was a sound of released spring and with a roll, he was diving out of the way of arrows. In a fluid motion, he stood up, turned around and send a knife flying back in response. There was a yelp. Sangrin sniggered. To the surprise of the party, a young male creeped out of the nearest bushes. He bowed to Sangrin.  
  
“Beloved one.”  
  
Sangrin sighed. This address was as embarrassing as ever. But he couldn't get them to stop. And he tried, quite desperately.  
  
“This is gold, Faren will regret he wasn't here.”  
  
Whispered sniggering Rica. Sangrin sighed in despair, but there will be a lot of embarrassing things to come. This was nothing. At least that was what he was telling himself. Denial. So he just fired quick instructions at the boy. They went back to camp and it didn't take long for wayward Cousland to return. Aedan was calmer and much more steady after their talk. Sangrin truly hoped it helped and some of the burdens were lifted. Before he could speak with the young man further he was found by Roland. His presence was required in a commanding tent.  
  
  
  
  
The battle of Ostagar was a small depressing paragraph in the history of Ferelden preceding a year of hell full of spreading taint for country citizens. While the Fifth Blight might have been short and localized compared to others in history, it had far-reaching consequences for Ferelden, which were felt for the next decade and were sharpened by mage rebellion. All these inevitable conflicts stacked on each other and plunged Thedas in decades of turmoil and war.  
  
While inquisition managed to patch the torn sky, brought some of the most powerful individuals and institutions together and calmed most of the restlessness in Thedas, it didn't manage to bring peace. The cooperation was forced by a common enemy and it inevitably led to disbanding of the organization. Other such institutions grew on its ashes and brought a change in its wake. Sangrin couldn't regret the outcome, because some of the changes led to growth and offered new horizons.  
  
The change brought conflict and conflict brought war. It was an ingrained behaviour for all people regardless of race. People were restless, opinionated and selfish individuals. They were also sociable creatures and had a habit of grouping together. They were like sheep in a need of a shepherd. They always flocked to the most powerful, most charismatic leaders. People were used to being led. Sangrin couldn't find a fault in this behaviour. It was part of their nature. He did found most of the faults with the chosen leaders. Because power corrupts. This corruption was the main reason he decided to disband Inquisition at the time.  
  
The change was also inevitable. The new thing it brought was not always bad. Traditions might be important, but it shouldn't bind. One should learn from their history. To be better, to do better. The change wasn't scary and it couldn't be forced. It was a natural way of evolution. Sangrin knew that was the main point Solas couldn't see. So ingrained in his habits and opinions, he couldn't see the change. He couldn't accept it. He couldn't grow. Sangrin sighted. In the end, he wasn't sure if Solas way of thinking could be altered. Although old, Solas wasn't awake for long in this changing world. So sure in his opinions and shortcomings of new races, he couldn't see the growth. In the end, Sangrin pitied the elf. So blind to the possibilities.  
  
  
  
  
The commanding tent was in the middle of the camp. Sangrin could hear loud voices arguing with the rising volume. Apparently, they were trying to outshout each other. It sounded worse then Sangrin expected. He entered without announcing his presence. There were men inside waiting for him already, who silenced their argument with his entrance. They surrounded the table with a detailed map of Ferelden. King Cailan was standing with Teyrn Loghain in the centre. On the right side were Duncan and orlesian warden-commander Clarel de Chanson, on the left side were Arl Eamon and chevalier commander Bastien Proulx. Sangrin almost did a double-take after seeing Bastien. He didn't expect that Bastien would be sent as commander here. The atmosphere between the men was obviously tense and all of them were frowning.  
  
Sangrin coughed and then proceeded to ignore the awkward atmosphere.  
  
“You wanted to see me?”  
  
“Sangrin! Yes, we would like to hear more detailed information about the horde.”  
  
Sangrin grinned at Duncan, the man was a natural diplomat. Loghain scoffed, his face distorting in disdain.  
  
“Why should we listen to some dwarf! Our scouts didn't bring any alarming...”  
  
Bastien promptly interrupted him with a sneer. Sangrin didn't know a man could make such an expression.  
  
“This dwarf is the main reason we were forewarned about Blight! Disregarding his information because of your xenophobic opinions will be ours and our troops' death. If you don't have anything constructive to add, then please be quiet!”  
  
Sangrin was impressed. He always knew that the man had a spine of tempered steel, but this was impressive. Loghain expression twisted even further.  
  
“Enough!” King Cailan with unexpectedly serious expression gazed at Sangrin.  
  
“Please be clear and concise master Cadash.”  
  
Men around the table quieted down. Sangrin nodded and started to outline their dire situation. He brought out his map of tunnels under the Korcari Wilds.  
  
“Thanks to this system they can jump out of the ground almost anywhere in the Wilds. Their numbers are staggering and you are currently surrounded. There are three main exits. This one faces Brecilian Forest and isn't far from Gwaren village. This one in Southron Hills is closest to Ostagar. Once they decimate army here, they will continue in the direction of Lothering. The last one is on the edge of the Hinderlands. That part of the Horde will most likely go for Redcliffe.”  
  
Sangrin looked at the pale men surrounding the table.  
  
“Their numbers are five times as much as you have now. Once the valley is swarmed from the smaller tunnels, your back is open to one of the main exits. If you fail your stand here, you are leaving surrounding villages unprotected. With your main strategic points occupied you will be losing supply lines. It might be already too late for Gwaren. Even if you manage to defend Ostagar, in the meantime the other part of the horde can just circle the battle and continue north.”  
  
Sangrin frowned and continued.  
  
“You are underestimating the true force of your enemy. Don't forget that darkspawn spread taint everywhere they go. Besides I heard that promised back up from north isn't coming. Orzammar is on lockdown and I heard there are signs of unrest in Circle Tower. You need to decide and act quickly. Once the archdemon shows up it will be too late.”  
  
After Sangrin presented their situation, there was a deafening silence in the tent. Sangrin saw that they were shaken and didn't like the picture he was offering to them. Well, tough luck. Sangrin left his map of the tunnels on the table and decided to leave the tent. He wasn't responsible for this lot and planned to be far away from Ostagar. He just hoped that they will all live through this madness.  
  
  
  
  
History had changed. At least for the battle at Ostagar. There wasn't any decisive fight any more. No betrayal was written in history. The main army slowly retreated and they continued to battle darspawn in smaller fights. They spread more and set up defences to protect villages and supply lines. The king didn't have time to fight on front lines, he needed to deal with betrayal at North. The death of Teyrn Cousland was a heavy blow for the army as their northern aid was in disarray. While he was furiously dealing with treacherous nobles, Loghain was trying to hold the line and resist advancing darkspawn. Sangrin words came to fruition and these smaller battles were slowly rising numbers of casualties.  
  
The village of Gwaren was lost very quickly, but villagers managed to run away on ships. Lothering with a better warning and defensive line provided by the slowly retreating army hadn't become a place of tragedy but was methodically evacuated. Slowly Redcliffe, with its great defences, became a steady opposing spot for the army against darkspawn. Arl Eamon proved to be a responsible leader who listened to the warnings from grey wardens and thus was prepared to defend his lands. Duncan went to Brecilian Forest in search of elves. He hoped that with their help they would stop the advancement of horde through the forest before they could attack Denerim. Commander Clarel went to look for help in Orzammar. The boost that dwarves could provide for the troops was necessary. While their opposition in the following months was steady, they were losing ground.  
  
Sangrin to his everlasting surprise met Leliana in Lothering. She was a sister in the local chantry. She tried to join in defence of the country but was refused. Sangrin found her depressed on the front steps of the local chantry. This unburdened girl had a long way to go before she would become a woman he knew, but she had a spark and lightness, which her older version tried to smother. As the battle of Ostagar hadn't resulted in absolute defeat, there wasn't a potential hero who would let her follow him around on a self-appointed quest. So, after some heavy persuasion of a head mother, he took quanari warrior by the name of Sten and Leliana with him. They lost contact with the Circle Tower but didn't have enough people to resolve it. They couldn't send mages or templars helping the army and their numbers with commanders looking for help were already stretched thin. Sangrin offered his help.  
  
His new travelling companions were hilarious. Sten was a fatalist who couldn't stand a chantry, while Leliana left her life as a bard behind for its calling. Their banter was priceless. They expected Sangrin to resolve their differences as an unbiased party. Sangrin found it comical, that they would look for advice on faith from a dwarf. But after he presented a deep knowledge of their cultures and customs, provided different points of views for their arguments, he became an undisputed expert in their eyes. Sangrin felt extremely flattered.  
  
Sangrin started to question his luck as they stumbled upon Hawke family under the attack of an ogre and other darkspawn. Before the creature could flatten the girl Sangrin brained an ogre with his hammer. He truly should thank that shaman once the Blight was over. This weapon combined with his strength and experiences could cause mass destruction if he tried really hard. The family was fleeing to Kirkwall. Sangrin could understand their uneasiness as two members of the family were mages, apostates. So they used the current confusion to run. Only one complaining was the youngest male. The young warrior wanted to stay and fight, which he wasn't allowed and was truly bratty about it.  
  
Then there was Flemeth in all her draconic glory and Sangrin considered to just hang himself. Why was he always getting into difficult situations, when he offered to help someone. He exchanged glances full of suspicion with the old witch. He truly didn't want to get tangled with the holder of Mythal yet. He decided to just ignore her and left the family in her hands while he continued on his way to the tower. When asked about it by his companions, he identified it as too troublesome and left it at that. Some things would just happen with or without his assistance. He was just happy that the future champion was on his way to Kirkwall and still had all the siblings. Maybe this time he would manage to keep it that way.  
  
The situation at Tower was more serious than Sangrin thought. Unrest evidently ended in revolt and nobody was allowed into tower any more. It was run over by demons and abominations. Sangrin bribed Sten with cookies to keep him from breaking bones of the stupid templar refusing them the entry. He proceeded to bully the idiot to bend to his will before they could execute the Rite of Annulment. He managed to get to the Knight-Commander Greagoir and they reached an agreement for Sangrin to attempt to stabilize the situation and rescue the First Enchanter with still resisting mages.  
  
Sangrin, Leliana and Sten slowly fought their way through tower floors. They managed to save some mages and templars on their way up. He left mage by the name of Wynne in the charge of the survivors on the first floor and sent all the rescued people her way. He didn't think he would end up knee-deep in demons without the rift in the sky. It was nostalgic. Some of the demons were hilarious and Sangrin managed to run circles around them when they tried to ensnare him. Abominations were dumb and uninteresting. Revenants were tough as nails, resistant to any attempt to kill them off. They were like moving fortresses and Sangrin hated their guts. Most of the tower was overrun by rage, fear and despair demons. Not surprising. Pride demon on the fourth floor proved to be chatty. He somehow managed to talk it out from killing the poor bewitched templar. They ended up running logical circles around each other and demon died with a laugh. Before its ultimate end, it assured Sangrin that was the most fun it had in a while. Then they encountered sloth demon and promptly ended up in Fade. Why did he always end up in this place? He was a dwarf for stone sake. Give him a break. It didn't take long for him to find his companions and defeat the stupid demon.  
  
He found an imprisoned Cullen before the Harrowing chamber. He almost gaped. The boy was a neurotic bundle of nerves and it took some time to calm him down. Cullen insisted on the annihilation of all mages, which surprised Sangrin. He knew he shouldn't expect the steady dependable man he knew, but to be so extreme about it was unexpected to Sangrin. He understood that he saw his friends die one by one, was starved and tortured, but it wasn't the fault of all mages. To hold everybody responsible for the actions of individuals was stupid and cruel. He rescued Cullen under disbelieving stares of his companions, promptly scolded him and send him to other survivors. Taking the prison down wasn't that hard after knowing some of the truly mad dwarves and enchanters. You always earn interesting knowledge while watching others blew up things. Sangrin sighed. He wished that Culens path in life would be easier, but he wasn't holding his breath.  
  
In the chamber, they finally met Uldred, the mage responsible for this revolt. Sangrin wasn't interested in what the man wished to accomplish by his actions and promptly killed him and abominations surrounding him before the situation could deteriorate further. It was quite anticlimactic and everybody looked at him in disbelief. Sangrin frowned. Had they expected for Sangrin to let the man prattle on, to give him a chance to retaliate or to summon more demons? Did he look that foolish? After they managed to save the First Enchanter situation stabilized and everybody slowly calmed down. This unnecessary bloodshed was a heavy blow for mages and templars. It definitely left a deep shade in the minds of remaining survivors. But this was just one of many examples which fuelled the mage rebellion. With the situation at the Circle Tower resolved, Sangrin continued to traverse Ferelden and helped where he could. Blight was spreading, but the opposition was strong. Darkspawn haven't overwhelmed Ferelden in one swoop. North was still safe and roads were controlled by the army. Archdemon was sighted in Korcari Wilds. Maybe this time Ferelden won't be ravaged so badly.


	6. Changing world

This time the Blight lasted almost three years, but the loss of lives was less than what Sangrin remembered. As the army managed to slow down the advancement of the horde, north of the Ferelden stayed almost taint free. With the supply lines secured, army was well supplied and supported. King Cailan dealt punishment quickly and decisively to the treacherous nobles, so he wouldn't need to split his attention and concentrated his efforts on darkspawn horde. This unexpectedly led to rising respect from citizens of Ferelden and slow, but steady improvement of Denerim Alienage. With the support of teyrn Loghain and Grey Wardens, king Cailan managed to hold most of the darkspawn forces in the south.  
  
Warden-commander Clarel somehow got the cooperation of dwarves. Sangrin didn't know what the man did, but dwarves appointed Bhelen Aeducan as a new king in record-breaking time. It was against all the traditions that the dwarves were so deeply mired in. Rica, Faren and Sangring just stared at the man in muted surprise, when he brought the news. They promptly dubbed commander a champion of their force and with the help of other wardens hosted an impromptu celebration for him. Clarel hadn't expected such ovations when he returned with the good news after months of tireless efforts and found it quite funny. The dwarven forces were a much-needed boost for their troops and played a crucial role in the saving of Redciffe in the last stretch of the war.  
  
Duncan managed to find elves in the Brecilian Forest deeply embroiled in internal conflict. Evidently, they were under a curse that changed them into werewolves. Duncan somehow got to the root of the curse and convinced their keeper to sacrifice his life to lift the curse. Thankful elves joined human forces against Blight and proceeded to guard the Forest and part of the South Reach. Like that darkspawn didn't get a chance to get too close to Denerim and the capital of Ferelden stayed untouched by the horde. Sangrin was convinced that to become a warden-commander you must be made of awesome. Because both Clarel and Duncan were unbelievable.  
  
Unfortunately, the man didn't live to see the end of the Blight. Duncan went to investigate the unrest at Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep. He managed to raise the defences of the city and the keep, so they withstood an unexpected surge of darkspawn under command of broodmother. He died in the final fight with the Architect. He managed to kill the darkspawn, but succumbed to his injuries. It was a heroic end, but Sangrin would miss the man. Most of the wardens Sangrin knew lived through the Blight, but Duncan wasn't only one who died fighting the horde or saving others.  
  
Linn and Roland died in defence of Redcliffe castle from darkspawn and undead. The son of the arl Eamon, Connor, presented as a mage. His mother instead sending him to unsteady, damaged, but slowly rebuilding Circle, hired a blood mage to train him in secret. Sangrin wasn't sure what the woman wished to do with such a stupid decision when Rica described to him the events that expired. The mage had poisoned arl and let the demon posses the boy. Rica and Faren with the help of Circle templars and mages managed to exorcise the boy and stabilize the deteriorating condition of the arl. Meanwhile, the village of Redliffe was ravaged and darkspawn almost sacked the castle. There was a lot of luck on their side that they have lost neither the castle nor lives of the boy and arl. Miracle even.  
  
The final fight was unexpectedly fought at Ostagar. For some reason, archdemon decided to nestle there. So army and its incorporated forces centred their numbers and made a push for the ruins. The young Aedan Cousland became a hero of Ferelden again when he managed to slay the archdemon and thus sacrificed his own life. His mabari was inconsolable. Sangrin with a lot of patience and effort got the dog out of his depressed state and became his new owner slash travelling companion. Sangrin wasn't sure how to feel about being an owner of a dog bigger than him.  
  
Sangrin helped Sten to acquire his lost sword. While helping with the army efforts, the quanari managed to make peace with himself and learned the desired knowledge he was sent for to Ferelden. Sangrin wrote all the necessary information about the Blight, darkspawn and taint he knew. He added some history and legends and bound it into a book for Sten to bring back with him when he returned to the qun. Sten stood before Sangrin at a loss for words. Nobody ever did anything so nice for him.  
  
“You said at the beginning, that you were sent here to learn about the Blight. With the sword at your side again you can return back to the qun and with the book, you can present the knowledge you have learned. While experiences are preferable, books make it easier to learn and spread knowledge.”  
  
Sangrin smiled at quanari. He knew they planned to invade Thedas. It didn't matter to him who will be leading the future world, they should be forewarned if another Blight covers surface again. Sten awkwardly thanked him for the book, cookies and help and returned to fulfil his duty.  
  
Sangrin also learned more about Leliana past, why she came to Ferelden and her subsequent betrayal by Marjolaine. So it wasn't a big surprise when they encountered assassins that led them to Denerim where they found the bitch. They listened incensed to Marjolaine, her taunting and pathetic excuses. To the surprise of both, Sangrin and Leliana, the one to react was Sten, who killed the woman in cold blood. Not only did she betrayed his friend and her companions, but endangered her country. Sten just couldn't stand a person like that. In his eyes, she didn't deserve Lelianas forgiveness. Sangrin never thought that the two of them would become such good friends. After the Blight, Leliana decided to answer a summon from Divine Justinia V. Evidently they knew each other. Sangrin wished her good luck in her future pursuits.  
  
With the Blight resolved and his warden friends busy chasing remaining darkspawn, Sangrin decided to continue adventuring and enlarge his scope of travelling to the whole Thedas. But first, he was going to look for sacred ashes. To Sangrin deep puzzlement the hidden temple wasn't found yet and arl Eamon remained in a magical coma. Healers didn't know how to help him and nobody wanted to chase forgotten legends. Brother Genitivi, the priest who spread the word about ashes before, died while helping injured soldiers on front lines during the Fifth Blight. His assistant died in a mysterious accident and there was nobody left to follow up on his search for fabled ashes. On the other hand, Sangrin knew that ashes were real and where to find them. So he and Fenrir travelled to a solitary village deep in Frostback Mountains, Haven.

  
  


The village he knew so well, was an unexpectedly unwelcoming place in this time. It was smaller, closed off and full of cultists calling themselves Disciples of Andraste. They were violent and without reason. When he entered the Chantry, father Eirik assumed he came to challenge their world-views and promptly attacked. They didn't even let Sangrin reason with them. Of course, they didn't pose any true challenge for battle-worn dwarf and his mabari, but their unrelenting attacks were annoying.  
  
They stopped attacking once Sangrin finally found their leader in caverns behind the chantry. His name was Kolgrim and like the rest of the cultists, had few screws loose. Evidently, the high dragon decided to nestle in the temple ruins. This was an apparent sign for these whack jobs, that Andraste had been reborn. They declared themselves prophets and the dragon reborn Andraste. Sangrin just stared speechless at the delusional man before him. What's more, in his unendingly benevolent disposition, Kolgrim would let Sangrin to the temple unobstructed if he joined the cultists and desecrated ashes with dragons blood.  
  
Sangrin couldn't believe this fanatic. He wasn't appalled by the idea of desecration of someone resting space, he did it often enough, but the man wouldn't be proposing something so extreme if the ashes were truly just the dust, they declared it to be. He could understand their fixation, dragons were after all forces of nature. But, while intelligent and crafty beasts, they couldn't be reasoned with and were ruled by instincts like other animals. Did he truly look so stupid, that he would join them in this delusional worship? Was it so hard for people to accept he was a dwarf? The follower of Stone? He might not be a pious fanatic, but dwarves belief came from the basic nature of their race.  
  
Sangrin resolutely denied Kolgrim request, which led to the expected battle. Sangrin won and snooped around the tunnels. As he climbed up to the mountain top, the high dragon presented itself. Sangrin decided to ignore the enormous creature. He had no plans to fight a dragon alone and the dragon just wasn't interested in a dwarf and his dog. Small blessings. Once in the temple, his self-appointed quest just got more bizarre.  
  
As he entered the ruins of the temple he met a warrior in the sprawling hall standing before a closed door. He looked human, but even Sangrin could feel the magic pulsing around him. Sangrin slowly walked up to the apparition.  
“I bid you welcome, pilgrim.”  
  
Huh, it spoke. Sangrin frowned. Was this the guardian the cultists mentioned?  
  
“The Guardian?”  
  
“Yes, I am the protector of the sacred ashes. I have waited for years for this.”  
  
“Waited?”  
  
“You are the first to arrive in a very long time. It has been my duty, my life, to protect the Urn and prepare the way for the faithful who come to revere Andraste. For years beyond counting have I been here, and shall I remain until my task is done and the Imperium has crumbled into the sea.”  
  
“Well, then you will wait for a long time to come.”  
  
The guardian stayed silent, prepared to fulfil his role as was set for him. Sangin hesitated.  
  
“You have said I was the first to arrive...what about the cultists and their dragon idol?”  
  
The guardian frowned with a deeply disappointed face. Sangrin was surprised by the show of emotions.  
  
“A true believer would not require audacious displays of power.”  
  
Well, the apparition wasn't wrong a true faith wasn't about power. But this faith was a rare, personal thing. There was no guarantee they would attach it to maker or Andraste.  
  
“Alright, let's get this over with. How will I get to the Urn?”  
  
“You must prove yourself worthy.”  
  
Sangrin shrugged and nodded.  
  
“Let's test it then.”  
  
“Before you go, there is something I must ask. I see that the path that led you here was not easy. You were their leader, shouldn't you have led them better? Tell me, pilgrim, don't you think if you have reached to Solas, then his path would have changed?”  
  
Sangrin laughed.  
  
“You can help them only if they wish to be helped. It's not my place to force my opinion or choices on other people.”  
  
“Others have no problem with this. What if it means the end?”  
  
“Then it will end again. Why should I be responsible for the world? I am not the only one in it. Besides, I have no say in other people fate, I can only influence mine and even then if it becomes better or worse doesn't depend only on me. Our lives are interconnected. We can't change the world alone. I have done the best I could with the time and information I was offered.”  
  
“Thank you. That is all I wished to know. The way is open. Good luck and may you find what you seek.”  
  
The apparition disappeared in a flash of light. Sangrin shook his head. Did it feed on personal doubts? Then his question was pointless. After all, Sangrin was reliving his life. Was he afraid of the change he brought? It wasn't like he could follow his footsteps. He decided to change the moment he saved Farens life. Sangrin snorted. In his mind world already crumbled and ended. It didn't matter if it will happen sooner or later. It might not happen at all. Lets hope. The apparition wanted a faith, right? Who is more faithful than Sangrin in his desperate hope for the better future of this world.  
  


The first hall was full of apparitions asking riddles. The answers weren't hard. All of them knew Andraste. She must have been a spectacular woman. To affect a religion to such a degree. Even to cause a split. That's the definition of popularity if Sangrin saw one. But they were just echoes of fragmented truth. They allowed Sangrin to pass forward. Then he saw a person, who turned around as Sangrin approached. Before this fake Solas could say anything, Sangrin punched him. Ups. He should work on his temper before he meets with the real elf. It would be rude to punch him for something he hadn't done yet. Sagrin nodded to himself. He had years to work on it. He moved forward, ignoring fake Solas on the ground. He wasn't interested in anything it could say to him.  
  
In another hall, there was his apparition, which immediately attacked. It was good, but Sangrin knew his own weaknesses. The apparition was strong, but it wasn't Sangrin himself. Besides Sangrin had Fenrir on his side, which didn't show up as another apparition. Looks like his mabari wasn't tested as worthy. Maybe animals weren't part of this test, but Fenrir was a great help to get over another room riddle. They needed to get the bridge working and Sangrin wasn't sure, how a lone pilgrim would go about it. He would get his mabari the biggest bone he could find for his help.  
  
Another room was on fire. Sangrin face twitched. Reluctantly he started stripping from his armour while grumbling under his breath. This was entirely unnecessary. As he approached the Urn half-naked through the flames his mind was stuck on the idea. What would all the chantry fanatics do, if he tried to persuade them that Andraste had such indecent requirement for her followers? In his mind, he saw all of them going crazy and stripping. He snickered. Maybe he will try it.  
  
“You have been through the trials of the Gauntlet.”  
  
The voice of the Guardian sounded behind him. Sangrin turned around.  
  
“You have walked path of Andraste and like her, you have been cleansed. You have proven yourself, worthy pilgrim. Approach the sacred ashes.”  
  
“Sure, just let me put on my armour again. I won't be flashing any woman, dead or not.”  
  
The apparition disappeared without another sound and Sangrin took a pinch of ashes. That should be enough for the comatose arl.

  
  


Under the disbelieving eyes of arl Eamon wife, his brother Tegan and mage responsible for the monitoring of his condition, Sangrin sprinkled the comatose man with ashes. The ashes shined and twinkled as they spread over the unmoving body. The reaction was immediate. Eamon slowly woke up, confused. It took some time to share all the news and the married couple had a lot of dirty laundry to air with each other. Sangrin promptly packed his shit and left in hurry.  
  
Tegan caught up to him before the dwarf could entirely disappear. Sangrin uninterested in Urn and the temple easily shared its location with the man. Told him about the village of Haven, cautioned against rash action because of fanatic inhabitants, remnants of the Disciples of Andraste. Well, Sangrin hoped he hadn't killed all of them off, but he didn't check before leaving the place. He also mentioned high dragon and the Guardian responsible for issuing of trials to lost pilgrims. Because Sangrin was sure that only unintentional visitors weren't killed off or brainwashed by the cult.  
  
Tegan was awed by the unexpected, but joyous news. He wished to share them with everybody. Sangrin didn't care. The temple and village got restored in his previous past. With the temple rebuilt and in use again, he will at least know where the tragedy would occur. Without it, this new future might get too complicated. He vaguely remembered that hero of Ferelden killed the dragon at the time. Looks like the hopeful pilgrims will have a harder time to get to the Urn this time. Sangrin shrugged. Not his problem. He shared the most important details with Tegan, refused his offer of compensation and left without any goodbye. Later he heard rumours about chantry trying to deny the existence of the Urn. Sangrin wasn't sure if they got rid of it or they truly couldn't find it. He didn't really care, just found it ironic.


	7. Footprints left behind through the letters II

Sangrin never thought, that after all this time, all his bloody and shady history, he would become a do-gooder. He was helping old ladies, saving children, vanquishing demons, proving truths and looking for lost treasures. He didn't do it for payment or awards either. He usually didn't receive anything but heartfelt thank you for his help. On the contrary, he was making himself an annoyance for the powerful nobles and dangerous criminal organizations. He was becoming a splinter under their nail. It was dangerous, exciting and priceless. And it was enough. Sangrin never thought he would feel so free and unburdened. He didn't need to help them, he could ignore these pleas for help like everybody else around them. But once he started, it was hard to refuse to help.

He had become an anomaly, a unique existence for these poor souls without any hope. The whispers about a dwarf with fade green eyes started to float around. He wasn't afraid to go against the mighty nobles or extremely dangerous criminals, without fear he would wade dangerous inhabitable places, he always looked for truths and if your desperate plea was honest, he would help you. Nothing could stop him from fulfilling true wishes. When Sangin heard this exaggerated tales he just sighted. Rumours would never reflect the truth, but it helped him to separate the ones that truly needed help from greedy profit-makers.

_ Dear Faren and Rica, _

_ Orlais is one fanciful country. One would think they tried to put ostentatious palace or castle everywhere they could. Even their slums get patched over to present united wealthy front. But if you think ferelden nobles were annoying, then I don't recommend for you to come here. They are even more pretentious than the dog lords and have more shadow and dagger approach to the things. How they manage to hide their shady deals in all that gold is truly inspiring. If they coached stupid arl Howe in their cunningness, then nobody would ever know about his treachery and death of the teyrn would be classified as an accident. Seriously, they are that good. _

_ But if you have time, you should visit Halamshiral. The city is very lively, has diverse trade and most of the population are elves. Kallian would love it here because the situation is reversed and humans are in minority. So no Alienage, but humans as privileged ones do live in High Quarters. Separation is still present, but the discrimination isn't as heavy as in Ferelden. At least here in Haramshiral. Although, the relations between races are very strained and they are just one accident from rebellion. It's quite worrying because it doesn't matter which side empress will help, it will end in the uprising and civil war. _

_ The Winter Palace is sprawling and very pretty. The gardens are an amazing sight, but they should toughen their security. It's foreseeable and easy to breakthrough. I also learned a lot of dirty secrets and embarrassing private preferences. Some people have truly weird hobbies. When I tried to hide from guards, there was a naked man confined to a chair in one of the rooms. I would understand a bed, but whatever. He pretended I was never there and I promised to never speak about it. He never requested my silence in writing, but I will never tell aloud. _

_ Deeply amused, _  
_ Sangrin _

_ Dear Sangrin, _

_ You are an evil creature and we are blessed you are on our side. Your information helped in our negotiations with orlesian side of the order and orlesian nobility. We secured a lot of privileges for Ferelden restoration. And not only the order, but even country. King Cailan was ecstatic and even Logain didn't complain. And I mean at all, he hasn't said a negative word. It was unbelievable and king Cailan suspected he was a doppelgänger until he scathingly admonished kings behaviour and his part in negotiations. It was a relief. _

_ After your letter, Kallian and Theron volunteered for a mission near Haramshiral. They succeeded but were reprimanded after our new commander found out that they spent some time in the city. They brought a lot of presents and are officially banned from High Quarters. But our warden-commander is a smooth talker and managed to get rid of pressing charges. You haven't met him yet. They sent him from Orlais and we moved to Vigil's keep, which was given to grey wardens after Howe was sentenced to death. It would be a shame to not use it after all the work Duncan put into it. Alistair was especially happy about this development. He was devastated after the man died, but Rica managed to get him out of his depressed state. _

_ Do you know you are really famous? Like unbelievable exaggerated rumours famous. I thought that this weird worship included only our part of the order, but it looks like your legend is spreading. We heard what you did for arl Eamon and subsequent mess it left the chantry in. They are still insisting that you didn't find ashes of Andraste. But betting on your ridiculous luck, you did find them. You and Rica always complain about me being a trouble maker. I think you have me beat there.  _

_ Resigned,  _  
_ Faren _

Sangrin groaned quietly, his head was pounding, but he didn't think the head wound was bleeding any more. The heat of Western Approach wasn't helping either. He met a mother requesting his help in finding her kidnapped children. Sangrin saved both kids and sent them back to their mother, but with this rescue, he managed to stumble upon Venatori faction. He didn't think when he found them frozen in the heart of Still Ruins as inquisitor, they were working here for so long. Right now they were just starting, but he managed to interrupt their research.

He looked around. There was a whimper to the side. Sangrin was happy to see Fenrir. The dog was hurt but still alive. It was stupid to leave Sangrin unguarded, even if both the dog and the dwarf were heavily wounded. Sangrin got out of his shackles, they did use metal ones instead of a flimsy rope. He left an impression then. He released Fenrir, collected his weapons and armour and they proceeded to leave a big mess of Venatori operation. Sangrin didn't think it would slow them down, but it did make him feel better. It was a payment for a headache they caused him.

_ Dear Faren and Rica, _

_ I would probably call it infamous. If I was famous I would be dodging fewer assassins and fanatics. It gets tedious after a time. I never knew there were so many criminal organizations in Thedas. With each assault, I learn new cultural knowledge and store more dirty secrets. They are giving me free clues with each defeat. It's a lot of fun. They still haven't stopped underestimating me. You would think that after a lone dwarf and his dog managed to raze their dens, interrupted their operations and avoided each assassination attempts, they would try something new. No such luck. Currently, I am in disagreement with six nobles and three organizations. Maybe more but others haven't sent their assassins yet. I have heard that Antivan Crows started refusing requests for my head. _

_ The Western Approach is unpleasant and hot, the creatures are violent and tough to kill. It's littered with riders, who are trying to catch the high dragon living here. Half of the wastes are cluttered with their traps. I am not sure if they expect the dragon to stumble into one of them. It's not a nice place for dwarves, but some of the mines practically sing with all the lyrium in them. It surprising that quarries and mines are mostly abandoned or sparsely occupied.  _

_ I have visited Griffon Wing Keep. It looks almost abandoned and its defences are crumbling. There are fewer wardens then in Ferelden at the beginning of the Blight and they are unfriendly. I also fell into Coracavus. It's an ancient abandoned tervinter prison. I have attached all the interesting information I have found and the map of Deep Roads under it. You can use them to get to different parts of Western Approach. It reminds me of underground tunnels under Korcari Wilds. Maybe it was used the same way in previous blight. _

_ Confused and tired, _  
_ Sangrin _

_ Dear Sangrin, _

_ Why do we always find signs of unrest when we are following your “unintentional” clues? Faren was right. You are the definition of troubles. Also, stop giving our colleagues ideas for mischief. That is a request from our warden-commander. This time it is because Alistair and Muriel followed your holiday tips in Montsimmard. I heard they caused a huge incident. I don't know all details, but it involved feathers, glue and magical ice trap. Both of them are on probation because of it. Commander Caron would also like to thank you for detail information about Coracavus. Wardens evidently thought that it was sealed off, so they didn't check the prison and planes around it. It will be included in their routine check of wastes. _

_ We have reported your information about Griffon Wing Keep to Adamant Fortress as it is the closest warden keep in the vicinity. To our surprise, they sounded shocked, like they were unaware of the state of the Griffon Wing Keep. Their reactions were somehow unsettling and commander Caron decided to contact other orlesian keeps. We will see if this confusing state is only in wastes or whole Orlais. It shouldn't be, because the commander wasn't aware of the situation when he was sent from Val Royaux to Ferelden. _

_ I am no longer surprised by your constant and unrelenting dance with death. I give up. It's your neck and we will be praying for your soul once the news about your death will reach us. But I will concede your point. It is a little short-sighted of the assassins, they should be trained professionals. They will need large scale destruction to get rid of you. You are like a cockroach, unkillable. Besides your letters which include your scuffles with assassins and criminals are hilarious. They bring a lot of ideas for bets and Killian created lists of rules, “Tips for idiots: Ambushes and hideouts” and “What not to do during the battle”. Also, there is “check your equipment and armour thoroughly” rule before any potential fight or mission in the order now. _

_ Resigned as your friend, _  
_ Rica _

Sangrin looked at his hand full of disbelief. Instead of a mark, he sported lyrium markings swirling on his skin. It was surprising he still had a hand or that he was alive at all. Rica words proved to be prognostic when venatori decided to drop the mines atop Sangrin head. They tried some weird incomplete summoning ritual, boosted by a shit-ton of lyrium which ended with the collapse of the mines and their death. Sangrin now sported a glowing hand which could turn incorporeal. It was painful and uncomfortable. Mage healer told him that once the lyrium settles, it will no longer pain him. It couldn't be undone if he wished to keep his hand, but he assured him it shouldn't cause long term damage. There might be some specialists in Tervinter, if he wished to enquire about alternatives.

Sangrin was resigned and hoped this was a sign that he won't sport a mark in this future. He didn't wish to know what will result from the combination of the two. He will make sure not to go near the Temple of Sacred Ashes in the future. It looked dangerous and glowed in dark, so he kept his hand covered. It took a lot of concentration and training at the beginning to keep his hand corporeal. It felt like he was reaching into the fade. He was near tears when his hand finally stabilized.

_ Dear Faren and Rica, _

_ The capital of Orlais, Val Royaux, is large and complex. Denerim is nothing in comparison and it could even compete with the wealth of Orazammar. Grand Cathedral is also called grand for a reason. It's the heart of the chantry and they recite the whole Chant of light here. It must be exhausting, even more than all the dwarven traditions and pomp. The University title as a major centre of learning is also deserved. The professors are very liberal-minded and their clashes with chantry are hilarious. They just pretend they get along with each other before empress. And before you ask, no, not everybody is allowed into Cathedral or University. But when the rules or warnings ever stopped me from snooping around and exploring. While the city is grand, the state of Alienage is horrible. It's worse than in Denerim. Overcrowded and ignored. I suggest that you keep Kallian and Theron away from Val Royaux or they will cause an uprising in Orlais. _

_ I met a friend here, Leliana. I don't know if you remember her, but she was a chantry sister travelling with me and that quanari during the Fifth Blight. We were quite the memorable group, but trekking through ravaged Ferelen with them was fun. She has secured a high position here and found my clashes with pretentious chantry personnel entertaining. _

_ But the truly most pompous here are templars. My constant verbal clashes with them are not helping my case, but I truly can't stand most of them. I am not telling that their view is wrong, but they don't even consider other opinions or possibilities. Trying to hold a liberal discussion with them is like throwing a nug shit at a wall, pointless. They don't like me when I poke holes into their logic with proven facts and new possibilities, but it's a lot of fun. They are also not the only reason why chantry can't stand me either. So I am no longer welcome in the capital of Orlais. _

_ Still so worth it. _

_ God of mischief, _  
_ Sangrin _

_ Dear Sangrin, _

_ Yes, we have heard some unbelievable rumours from Orlais and about new preachings of Andraste. We should have known you were behind them. But it left most of the order cramped up on the floor in laughter. As your letter is proof enough, Rica has won a bet about the rumours. I just hope you won't cause some national incident, but I am not holding my breath on that. You are inciting our colleagues often enough. _

_ Our numbers in Ferelden are still rising. Thanks to your help during and after blight, there is a lot of goodwill toward wardens here. The Highever is also getting back to its feet and Aedan brother took teyrn seat. I heard he is getting married soon. The Circle tower is also fully functional again, but we hear there is a lot of tension between mages and templars. Whole Ferelden is just eyeing them with an alert, like a powder keg ready to blow up. King Cailan is trying to resolve some of it, but his meddling is just making it worse. I think the ones that will get the short stick in this clash will be mages. _

_ There is also continuous news from Orzammar about clashes between the king Bhelen and traditionalist council. We are just waiting for the moment when Bhelen will sack them, which will cause another upheaval in the city. Also, Rica helped her friend Dagna to get a position in the Circle. She is now studying magic there and is prepared to travel to fulfil her desire for knowledge. Who knew she was so ambitious. _

_ New second in command, _  
_ Faren _


	8. Lucky encounter

Sangrin sat on the ground tending to the poisoned mabari Fenrir had discovered. The stupid dog was poisoned by a wyvern. He assumed he was on hunting grounds belonging to Chateau Haine. Wasn't mabari trained to avoid poison? Was this one just untrained or stupid? Making a healing salve to treat mabari was easy as all necessary herbs grew on the grounds. Sangrin was treating the whimpering dog while Fenrir was towering over them. Sangrin glanced at Fenrir. His dog was at least twice as big as the one he was treating. He knew Fenrir was a giant in comparison to other mabari, but this was just unnatural.  
  
“Are you sure, you aren't growing any more?” He asked suspiciously. Fenrir glance was full of contempt. The dog huffed into his face. Sangrin frowned.  
  
“It's a serious concern. If you are still growing, I can use you like a pony instead of a hound.” Sangrin grinned at his dog, who proceed to bowl him over in its outrage. Sangrin laughed. The whimpering of the other mabari stopped and it was slowly trying to stand up again. Sangrin gently scratched the dog under its chin.  
  
“Feeling better? You should thank Fenrir for finding you.” The mabari obediently snuggled into Fenrir side. Fenrir glared at grinning Sangrin.  
  
“No need to be so moody. We will just retrace our steps and circle the grounds. We will try to not ruffle the feathers of the nobility here.”  
  
Fenrir huffed and levelled Sangrin with accusing stare. Sangrin was immediately full of denial.  
  
“We are not lost. We are exploring Vimmark Mountains...in detail.”  
  
Fenrir huffed again full of doubt. Sangrin wasn't sure why he was trying to defend his actions before the dog. He resolutely nodded and said with absolute surety.  
  
“Trespassing is a necessary part of exploring. You just need to make sure not to get caught.”  
  
There was a sound of giggles and snickers behind Sangrin. Fenrir stare was clearly judgemental. Sangrin stood and promptly turned around with excuse. “We are hunting wiverns.”  
  
Sangrin face showed surprise when he looked at the group behind him. He didn't expect to meet an acquaintance here.  
  
“Sangrin?!” Garrett Hawke was surprised to see the dwarf here as well, but that fade coloured eyes were unique and easily remembered. Sangrin examined the group. With the young mage, there was his younger sister he saved. Next to her was an elven woman, who just screamed assassin to him. He met them often enough to be able to sniff them out in the crowd. Then there was a scantily clothed woman with dark skin and twin daggers, a white-haired elf with the same glowing markings that occupied Sangrin covered hand and another dwarf. This was a younger, less burdened version of the dwarf Sangrin knew. Garrett grinned at Sangrin.  
  
“What are you doing here? You left us so quickly, we haven't had a chance to thank you for saving Bethany.” The girl nodded enthusiastically. Sangrin just shrugged his shoulders.  
  
“You were in good hands and the Circle tower was in an immediate need of saving. We needed to outrun the Rite of Annulment at the time.” Fenrir huffed and growled at his side. Sangrin tone became sarcastic when he looked at the dog. “I am not sidestepping his questions. We are not lost.” Garrett chuckled.  
  
“You have a dog now?” Sangrin nodded.  
  
“Fenrir previous owner was a hero of Ferelden. After his sacrifice, Fenrir became my travelling companion. He is very clever and a great help.” Fenrir puffed up his chest while Sangrin continued. “What are you guys doing here? Hunting wyverns?”  
  
“Well, yes. I was invited by duke Prosper to participate.” Sangrin looked at him full of scepticism.  
  
“The pompous orlesian invited someone with ferelden nationality? Have you become filthy rich?”  
  
Garrett laughed and even his group was full of grins.  
  
“On the first try, I am impressed.”  
  
Then he proceeded to introduce his group to Sangrin. Sangrin greeted them and stared at the markings swirling on Fenris skin. His showed a proper design. It meant it was intentional compared to Sangrin accidental acquisition of swirling lines. He wished he could wring the neck of the mage who did it. Sangrin thoughts stumbled. Maybe he had acquired a heavy mental trauma from the experience. It was the same hand which sported a fade mark previously. The elf reacted defensively.  
  
“What are you staring at.” Sangrin hesitated.  
  
“Just...it must have really hurt.”  
  
“What do you know.”  
  
Sangrin shrugged, not offended by the scathing reply, took down his glove and showed Fenris his hand. Uneven swirling lines covered his whole hand and forearm. They had a more blue glow to them, but they could be compared to Fenris arranged markings.  
  
“I had an accident in mines. It involved fanatic mages, untested ritual and a lot of lyrium.” Sangrin put a glove back on his hand. “It hurt like a bitch at the beginning and I couldn't get it to stop phasing through things. I can't imagine to have it on the whole body. Maybe it is different for an elf, but as a dwarf, I find it is mighty unsettling.” Fenrir hesitated, unsure how to react. Sangrin let it go and looked at Bethany.  
  
“Where is your brother. The sour constantly complaining one?”  
  
The faces of Hawke siblings clouded over. Bethany responded with a frown.  
  
“I was caught while Garrett was on the expedition. Carver covered for me and joined templars.”  
  
Sangrin whistled feeling surprised.  
  
“That's a gutsy decision considering the magic in your bloodline.”  
  
Both Garrett and Bethany huffed, evidently unhappy with the decision of their brother. Sangrin scratched his chin awkwardly. He didn't mean to bring up unpleasant things.  
  
“This is the first time meeting another beardless dwarf, no wonder Hawke didn't have any reaction meeting me!” Exclaimed Varic. Sangrin laughed.  
  
“It was getting in the way. My war hammer has ice properties.”  
  
Said Sangrin in explanation. The atmosphere got less awkward and they helped to return the dog to the hunter. The man was ecstatic to hear that Sangrin saved his mabari. Sanrin offered to help them track and hunt the wyvern. With Fenrir help to track the creature, it was a child play. As they concluded successful hunt, they were attacked by pompous baron Arlange and his man. It was pathetic. The man didn't stand a chance, but his life was spared by Garrett. Before they could return to Chateau, chasind man on duke Prosper side bowed to Sangrin. “Beloved one.”  
  
Sangrin expressionlessly looked at the warrior. How did they always know? Did he have it printed on his forehead or something? It even bled into those stupid rumours. If it will continue this way, then it will become his official title one of these days. Sangrin despaired. He will never hear the end of it from his friends. Why couldn't he have some badass title intead? Life was just unfair. He coughed to hide his discomfort.  
  
“My name is Sanrin, there is no need for formalities.”  
  
The man nodded. “Of course, Beloved one.”  
  
Sangrin wilted. Why were the chasind such stubborn people? They refused to use his name and showed reverence each time they met him. He still hadn't understood the reason for all the pomp. So he ignored the warrior and positively responded to invitations of the curious duke.

  
  


Sangrin joined the courtyard celebration and tried to become inconspicuous. He didn't have a natural wallflower disposition, but most of the people were too intimidated to talk to him. He was greeted by joyous bann Tegan. They talked until the man was distracted by the complaining wife of arl Eamon. Sangrin still couldn't remember her name properly. So he moved around the guests looking for a shady spot for himself. He watched Garrett and Tallis attempts to acquire a key to one of the doors which will lead them into the mansion. It was funny to watch them fail continuously, while they tried to mingle with other guests. Amateurs.  
  
“Well, well, well, look who have I met here.” Sangrin turned to the melodious voice.  
  
“Leliana?!” Exclaimed surprised Sangrin, but greeted her warmly. He was always happy to see his wayward friend. Or maybe he was the capricious one. Sangrin held the thought for a moment and then amended his opinion. His friends had it hard.  
“Do you know how much trouble have you left in Val Royaux?” There was laughter in her eyes, so Sangrin knew she wasn't angry with him. So he responded nonchalantly.  
  
“I thought you would appreciate my tireless effort in modernizing your religion.” There was laughter to the side and they saw approaching Garrett and Talis.  
  
“You are behind the rumours about chantry new preachings?” Garrett couldn't hide his disbelief. Sangrin coughed to cover his laugh.  
  
“I wouldn't know anything about that.” Leliana gave him a judging look and sarcastic reply.  
  
“You wouldn't.”  
  
They didn't say anything more about it and changed the subject. There was an awkward moment when Tallis and Leliana greeted each other. Sangrin snickered but was silenced by Leliana sharp glare before he could comment on it. Sangrin felt nostalgic, Leliana was getting more fierce each time they met.

  
  


As a matter of course, unsurprisingly, they got caught by the duke. Only Varric was witty enough to badger Sangrin into helping them to find incarcerated Hawke. Whatever the Fenrir, Faren and Rica opinion on the matter, Sangrin had a great sense of direction and he could find anything with a splatter of clues. Sangrin listened to their comments while he stealthily led them to the cells where the duke held their friend. He loved the “so the dwarves do have stone sense” from Fenris and Bethany panicked despairing of “what am I going to tell Mother? Sorry, I got lost and left your heir in an Orlesian's dungeon?”.  
  
They found Garrett and Tallis relaxing in the cell, waiting for rescue. Sangrin knew that Tallis as an experienced assassin could get them out in no time. Such consideration. He even stated it to the woman under sceptical looks from the group. Her behaviour turned shifty when he exposed her nature as an assassin. It was Sangrin turn to be highly sceptical of the group. How did they not know?  
  
On their way out of dungeon through a hidden passage, they finally dragged some semblance of the truth from Tallis. When Sangrin finally heard the name of a supposed jewel, he just groaned. He travelled with Sten for the duration of the blight and had a deep understanding of the qun. There was no jewel involved. And by the name, he could clearly see the lives at stake here. Without more explanation, he promised his help to the assassin. By the Tallis surprised look, she had expected more resistance. The group just looked at each other and went with the flow.  
  
Once outside they got ambushed by the irritating baron Arlange again. Sangrin scoffed and promptly killed the noble. Why do they always want to chat with you and explain their reasoning? There was an awkward pause where they look incredulously at Sangrin.  
  
“What?! He had his chance!”  
  
The group just shrugged and cleaned up baron lackeys. They divided into two groups. Hawke, Tallis, Fenris and Varric went in the direction of Tal-Vashoth, while Sangrin with his dog, Isabella and Bethany went to intercept the duke. The three of them unexpectedly stumbled upon Salit.  
  
“Haaaa, looks like Garrett went in a wrong direction.” Exclaimed Sangrin and they proceeded to subdue the quanari. When he got his hands on the scroll, the rest of the group and the duke with his men joined the party. Misunderstandings continued. Duke didn't know the value of the scroll and decided to kill them all off with the help of his overgrown wywern. The chasind warrior excused himself to Sangrin and attacked. The following fight was exhausting. Salit and his associates died at the beginning, the chasind warrior abandoned his half-hearted attempts at killing them after the rest of dukes man were dead and overgrown wyvern pitched it off the cliff after Garrett avoided its single-minded pursuit. Duke Prosper held for dear life and spewed vitriol at Garrett from the edge of the cliff where he dangled. Chasind warrior pretended not to hear and went his own way. Garrett unconcerned, stepped on duke's fingeres and pushed him off the cliff.  
  
After all the entertainment Tallis got the scroll from Sangin, gave Garett a jewel which she prepared to fake as their target and said her goodbyes. Garrett wasn't angry about the concealment, but most of the troubles could have been avoided if she came clean. Well, water under the bridge. He invited Sangrin into the Kirkwall, insisting that his mother would like to meet him again. Bethany supported her brother in their guilt trip and their group pitched their two cents in their effort to persuade the dwarf to come. Sangrin didn't stand a chance. At least he and Fenrir will finally get out from this confusing mountain range.

  
  


Kirkwall name of The city of Chains was well deserved in Sangrin opinion. Getting into the city was costly even with Garrett help and Sangrin bitched about it the whole way to Hawke estate. He had to concede that the place was pretty sweet. It was quite big, tastefully decorated and Sangrin almost did a double-take when he saw Bohdan and Sandal. He met the merchant and his adopted son during the blight. They helped the army with logistics but left after horde occupied the south and overtook the Lothering. They told Sangrin they received an offer from Varic brother to be part of his expedition into Deep Roads and that Garrett saved them. So in their effort to repay his help, they decided to serve him. Leanra was also very happy to see the dwarf and could finally express her thanks for his help during their escape from Ferelden. Sangrin became a quick gossip buddies with the gentle woman and became a stable part of her afternoon tea time.

However, Sangrin refused their hospitality and decided to book a room in the Hanged man for the duration of his stay in Kirkwall. Garrett was busy with different requests from inhabitants of the city. The people he knew were very diverse, from shady people of Darktown to all the way up to viscount of the city. He met with Meril in the pub. He was surprised when he realised he shared a friend with the naïve elf. Theron was from the same clan as Meril and she was very happy to hear about his well-being. Sangrin also learned more about the circumstances when Theron acquired the taint before his joining. He offered his knowledge about eluvians, he gathered in previous past and on his exploration of Thedas, and cautioned Meril against applying blood magic onto it. If she insisted on restoration of it, then she should be very cautious of the taint and uninvited guests. Meril was speechless as she never expected to receive the necessary information about mirrors from a dwarf.

Sangrin on his exploration of the dock met Cullen again. The man got promoted to Knight-Captain and was calmer and more assured. He was a little embarrassed to meet Sangrin, but had thanked the dwarf for his help in ferelden Circle Tower. They talked a little about templars and current tension with the mages. Cullen pushed his attention into protection of citizens and mages under his guard. There was much more consideration in his actions then when they met in Ferelden. He also stated his displeasure with some of his colleagues and some uncertainty about the Knight-commander of the Kirkwall Circle. He suspected she would follow extreme actions in the mounting tension, but hoped he was wrong. Sangrin didn't think he could help him as he wasn't sure what truly provoked the experienced commander in his previous past. He heard from Varic tales, that she became lyrium statue, but he wasn't sure which part of his exaggerated tale was true.

Sangrin also met guard captain Aveline. He remembered her from his previous encounter with Hawke family. The templar with her was sick with the taint at the time. After she came to Kirkwall, she joined guards and with Garrett help became a guard captain. She was freshly married to another guardsman. Sangrin sometimes shared a drink with her at the Hanged man and let her complain about understaffed and underpaid guards. He helped her to get some funding for the guards as the viscount was spineless and unreliable man.

His first and probably last encounter with Anders was memorable. Instead of man he was greeted by a spirit possessing him. They got into argument that escalated very quickly. While spirit tried to defend his actions and decision, Sangrin in his anger accused him of selfish reasons and concealment of real goals. He accused the spirit possessing Anders of using the man for his own means and leading him astray. Bethany who witnessed their interaction tried to calm them down, but it took Garrett intervention to diffuse the situation. After some cutting words to Anders, Sangrin decided to avoid the man. Spirits not having human emotions, what a rubbish idea. Cole was a living proof spirits could get very emotional. Just because they were different didn't mean they were objective or right.

Sangrin remembered that Garrett killed the man in his previous past. He hoped that this time the man will witness the consequences of his action. He doubted that he could stay so self assured in the face of all the death, mayhem and destruction he brought to Thedas. Sangrin also didn't know when he planed to blow up the chantry or if it will happen differently this time around. Somehow he doubted the so called spirit of justice could be reason with.

  
  


It was early in the morning when Sangrin saw Leandra in Lowtown. He was arguing with the trader about his overpriced goods. It was getting nowhere and he wouldn't buy anything either. He was just arguing for a heck of it. The trader knew it too but refused to compromise. Fenrir was contently laying on the side, enjoying the morning sun. All of a sudden he stood up and called Sangrin with a whine. Sangrin stopped in the middle of his pointless argument and moved to Fenrir. After some searching, he saw Leandra. Before he could greet her, some random man bumped into her. Sangrin frowned. The man was covered in blood and it looked like he requested help from Leandra.  
  
The woman was too kind and helped him stand up, while a few morning people in Lowtown ignored them. Sangrin decided to follow them, so he could offer his help to Leandra. They moved surprisingly fast for a woman burdened by an injured man. When they passed the clinic without stopping Sangrin frown deepened. Leandra knew where the clinic was, after all she had lived here. He followed them as they moved in the direction of the foundry. When they were out of the sight of other people the man straighten up and stunned Leandra. He picked her up and quickly fled into the foundry. Sangrin cursed and ran after them.  
  
He burst inside without stopping, but they have already disappeared. He followed the blood tracks and found a trapdoor. Probably a hidden entrance. As he went down his nose was assaulted by the smell of blood and rot. He found a corpse of an unknown woman in the room. Alarmed he continued his search for Leandra. Following the track, he found her necklace. It was in a doorway of a room that looked most occupied. There was a bed, bookcases, table, chairs and a weird shrine. He ignored all of it and followed the smell of rot and blood.  
  
In the next room, there was that suspicious man. He put Leandra onto the table on the side, while he prepared ritual in the middle of the room. When Sangin arrived, his check was evidently done he took a sword into his hands and moved next to unconscious Leandra. He lifted the sword above his head with both hands and started to chant. Sangrin moved and called to Fenrir as the dog was faster.  
  
“Fenrir!” The dog howled and violently bowled over the man before he could cut Leandra head off. While the man was surprised by the unexpected ambush, his magic swelled and in a moment they were swimming in demons. Sangrin flattened mage's head in one swing before he could stand up, his blood and brain splattered everywhere. Unfortunately, it didn't help with demons surrounding them and even his dead body became an abomination. Sangrin and Fenrir stood their ground while protecting unconscious Leandra.  
  
The following fight was long and left them tired, wounded and bleeding. With the help of the potions, he healed the worst of their wounds and took Leandra to the other room. He sat her in the chair. She didn't look hurt, so he tried to wake her up. It took longer than he thought it would. When she finally regained consciousness, she was confused. She panicked when she realized what happened but Sangrin managed to calm her down. To her absolute confusion, he made tea for them and just sat down with her there.  
  
“I have no energy left to move and I don't think you are in the condition to move me and Fenrir by yourself.”  
  
Leandra giggled, it had a hysterical edge into it. So he entertained her by his tales and they slowly exchanged new gossip while sipping the tea. That was how Garrett, Bethany, Isabella and Varic found them. Sangrin understood why Faren and Rica thought that he brought troubles upon himself. If there was a god and if he will somehow meet him, he will register a complaint about the course of his second life. The first one was no walk in a park, but this was getting ridiculous. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just hate the way Leandra dies...it's so creepy


	9. Troubled city

The blood mage Sangrin killed happened to be a serial killer, who sent his victims' white lilies before he used them in necromantic ritual. He was trying to recreate his lost lover from the pieces of women he killed. Leandra was a crowning jewel as she shared a resemblance with the dead woman. This cast a deep dark shadow upon mages in Kirkwall. It didn't matter that they didn't participate, or use blood magic. They shared a stigma with this killer who left a trail of corpses after himself. Sangrin thought it was pretty hypocritical. You didn't need to have a magic to leave corpses in your wake. He should know.  
  
This shouldn't be about magic, but willpower and morals. Anyone could become corrupt under the sway of power. If one wanted to compare, then there were more bloodthirsty mercenaries than ordinary mages, more depraved assassins than blood mages. Instead of baseless accusations, they should admire their willpower. True, mages had the quickest grab for the power, but they were constantly tested for its acquisition through their connection to the fade. Nobody truly wanted to become an abomination and once they succumbed to these false promises there was no way back for them. Unfortunately, mages who decided to go out in a blaze of fire could cause more damage than any other mercenary or assassin. They were victims of their own power and fear of the unknown it brought to others.  
  
Sangrin saw a lot of corruption and twisted desires in his life. If more people could accomplish their depraved wishes without the help of magic, there would be much more of them staining their hand in the blood of innocent bystanders. There was no excuse for such actions, but the path to hell was paved by good intentions after all. He didn't think he had the right to judge such individuals, his own path was bloody enough, but he wouldn't stand by and watch them destroy the lives of innocent people. Maybe it was a collision of ideas and values, maybe it was about justice and vengeance. In the end, Sangrin didn't truly care. There were no deep thoughts or conflicts for him. He wasn't here to judge them, but he will reap their life if they stand in his way.  
  
He had witnessed this ostrich approach when demons flooded the world and inquisition was created. They just sat there and waited for someone to save them, while they were quick to judge and condemn. While his advisors tried to create an idea, which could unite them, they got undermined at each turn by greedy people following their own agenda. They were too young for an organization to facilitate true change. Maybe this time something could be done differently.  
  
After this scare, it took some time for Hawke family to calm down. Carver who stormed the estate shouting abuse at his older brother didn't help the following tension. Sangrin watched fretting Leandra and Bethany as they tried to calm Carver down. Garrett peaceful reasonable responses just stroked the anger of his younger brother. He only came to share a tea with Leandra and became a witness to family drama. He tried to ignore it, but his temper peaked and he punched Carver to shut him up. The surprised look on the young man face when he went down was gratifying.  
  
“Stop bitching for a second and listen carefully.” Sangrin crouched down and poked his forehead. “If I was a second late, all of you would be missing a mother. The only thing left would be your siblings and your priority is holding a grudge? For what precisely? Your brother isn't some deity, he can't be everywhere, do everything or know your thoughts without you speaking out loud. Take your head out of your ass and think clearly for a moment.”  
  
There was dead silence in the room. He shook his head feeling frustrated and stood up.  
  
“I had a lovely time Leandra, but I have overstayed my welcome.” He smiled at the woman, who tried to protest.  
  
“That's not true master Sangrin.” Sangrin chuckled.  
  
“You don't need to be so polite to me all the time.”  
  
He left without proper goodbyes. Sangrin truly wished that Garrett would stop being nice and accommodating to the ungrateful brat. Carver needed to grow up and codling him won't help.  
  
  
  
  
All his time here considered Sangrin thought that coastal city of Kirkwall was a boiling pit of restless malcontent. How could someone prefer this city over any other in Thedas was a mystery to him. Thugs and slavers fought over territories with mercenaries and smugglers. Mages pushed at their chains while templars tried to stifle all their attempts at freedom. The distinction between Hightown, Lowtown and Darktown was familiar to Sangrin and had the same feeling as cast system in Orzammar. You could sense this desperate desire for survival in every corner of the city. The shipwrecked quanari weren't helping the general stability either. On top of all that sat viscount, a figurehead. This strained peace won't last long. Sangrin was just waiting for that little match that would cause a forest fire.  
  
On his way to the chantry, Sangrin contemplated his next actions. He didn't want to be present for inevitable quanari uprising, but he didn't think he could run far before it started. He just sighed and looked up at the Chantry. It was towering over Hightown in all it's splendour. You could see the dwarven designs all over the Kirkwall. Only dwarves would be this ostentatious and heavy-handed with the stone and metal. Sangrin leisurely strolled inside feeling out of place. Why did they ask him to come here?  
“Messere.” Sangrin turned around with surprise. ”Thank you for coming. I wished to speak with you in person.”  
  
“Grand cleric?” He looked uncertainly at the old woman.  
  
“Yes. I am Elthina, the voice of the Divine in the Kirkwall.”  
  
“You wanted to see me? What for?”  
  
Elthina smiled kindly at Sangrin. “To appease my curiosity. Many rumours and exaggerated tales are surrounding you. I wished to see for myself who you truly were.”  
  
Sangrin laughed. “Well, then I am honoured to make your acquittance.”  
  
Sangrin spoke to the grand cleric in an easy manner, not bothered with protocol or pomp her position required. It brought him offending looks and horrified gasps from surrounding personnel. Sangrin ignored them, more interested in the old woman. Her speech and manner were calm, steady and thoughtful. Sangrin understood why others thought that grand cleric was undecided when she refused to take the side. Either quanari, templars or mages. She was on her own side, steadily protecting interests of the chantry. The conflict would bring her nothing, just more hurt and bloodshed. Sangrin found her hands-off approach admirable, but overall useless. These fanatics will find a way to drag her in. In his previous past, it was her death and destruction of the chantry, that marched them all to the precipice of all-out war.  
  
She couldn't stop them or persuade them and guiding them with the chant of light had also proved useless. In her position, she couldn't choose a side of either extremist party, but she hadn't offered resolution either. She was stuck and she was fully aware of this. She would witness deterioration around her as an observer, unable to interfere without compromising her position. Each time Sangrin thought about the incident, his wish to kill Anders got stronger. He was truly proving past Josephine right. Sangrin contemplated if his restrain was a lost cause.  
  
Sangrin described his adventure in the Temple of Sacred Ashes and a consequent incident in Orlais, which produced those rumours about chantry new preachings to the grand cleric. Her reaction to his tale was unexpected. Elthina started to laugh. Sangrin wasn't the only one stunned by loud laughter resonating in the chantry.  
  
“Pfff...I wish I could see their faces in Val Royaux.” She said to Sangrin as she calmed her laughter. “Thank you for coming here to assuage my curiosity.”  
  
Sangrin was about to respond when he heard someone to call his name. He met hesitant Garrett when he looked after the voice. There was a tall blue-eyed man at his side. They gave their salutation to Elthina, while grand cleric greeted them and excused herself. Garrett introduced Sangrin to Sebastian Valen, lost prince of Stakhaven. Garrett was here to get some help with the quest, but all of his companions kept refusing him. Sangrin just laughed at his misfortune when he heard that he needed their help to search fade.  
  
Garrett didn't want to do it alone, but everybody refused him when they heard about the fade part. They would go if he asked them to, but he didn't wish to subject them to experiences they weren't comfortable with. Only Isabella, Meril and Anders were willing to go with him on their own. However, Meril wasn't on best terms with the keeper Marethari, so he didn't wish to bring them together and Anders was already possessed, enough said. Garrett was contemplating to go alone or with just Isabella after Sebastian refused to be part of it. Looking at the amused dwarf Garrett tentatively asked for help. Sangrin detested fade with every fibre of his being but agreed to help. He ended up there often enough. What's one more time.  
  
  
  
  
Garrett was asked to help a boy, by the name of Fenryel, he had saved before. He met the boy when Fenryel tried to run away from the Circle after his powers manifested. His mother wished him to join the Circle, but there was a great chance he would be made tranquil after they realized his potential powers. Garrett helped him to contact dalish elves near Kirkwall instead. Keeper Marethari tried to help the boy, but his condition worsened. Evidently, Fenryel was a dreamer, powerful and rare type of a mage. He got stuck in a dream and his mother pleaded for Garrett to save her son.  
  
Sangrin followed Garrett and Isabella into the Kirkwall alienage. To see a giant tree in the middle of the alienage never got old for Sangrin. It didn't matter where the alienage was located, there was always a giant tree in it. In the middle of the stone city, on the grass-less plane or overcrowded cobbled quarters. There was no difference for this magically erected tree. It was amazing and it always left Sangrin in awe of magic.  
  
When they arrived, they were greeted by an elven woman. She was very happy to see Garrett and couldn't stop thanking him for his help as she led them to her home. Keeper Marethari had already arrived. She was just finishing her preparations for the ritual as they entered the room. She discussed necessary details with Garrett and warned them about the dangers of the fade. Sangrin wasn't worried. This time he won't be there physically, just dreaming about the place. The same as when they encountered that sloth demon in the Circle Tower. Nothing to really worry about.

  
  


Sangrin looked around the fade. He hated this fuzzy feeling of weightlessness. Nothing truly looked real to him in fade and it wasn't just because it didn't follow the law of gravity. He always felt disconnected in this place. No stone whispers, no wind or smell of nature. He looked at Garrett and Isabella. They weren't as uncomfortable. Garrett as a mage was used to this place, while Isabella looked around with interest. They moved to the stone courtyard, where they were greeted by a sloth demon.  
  
“Well...it's rare to see two forgotten magics in one day.” Demon sounded amused. Sangrin eyed the demon already tired with its attitude. Isabella just scoffed uninterested and Hawke frowned. Both of them prepared to respond if the demon decided to attack, but it just unhurriedly continued its spiel. “It's usually a slow place, the Fade, not many surprises. I wasn't sure I'd like this one...but it has potential. Call me Torpor. I have a...”  
  
“We are not interested.” Sangrin interrupted demon speech. The demon looked at Sangrin, more vary of the dwarf than two humans.  
  
“How would you know? You haven't heard my...”  
  
“No.” Sangrin interrupted again. “You know we are here for a boy and anything you can offer is just a prettily packed disadvantage. Either point us in the right direction or perish here.”  
  
Of course, the demon decided to fight. Why would he give up his meal ticket to these uninvited guests? They fought demon off and continued in their search for Feynriel. They met the desire demon first. It tried to deceive the boy with the illusion of parental love he desired from his absent father. Garrett easily talked some sense into him. Annoyed demon decided to entice Isabella. It was extremely effective and they needed to fight off brainwashed Isabella as well. When she disappeared Sangrin looked at amused Garrett.  
  
“She will be deeply disappointed when she wakes up without that promised ship.” Said Garrett calmly. Sangrin chuckled and shrugged.  
  
“Well, it's easy to succumb to our wishes and desires. If it was so easy to resist, people wouldn't be so afraid of mages.” Garrett just sighted. Wasn't that a truth?  
  
They continued their search and encountered pride demon enticing the boy with an illusion of an acceptance. It was easy for Garrett to brake as well. Fenryel was aware of himself and had the knowledge necessary to resist. He broke from an illusion quickly. Garrett just needed to push him in the right direction. The annoyed demon turned to Sangrin. Sangrin just gave the demon a droll look.  
  
“Let's hear the impossible offer. What will you give me to switch sides?” He continued to think aloud in front of a floundering demon. With each listed offer his tone became more sarcastic. “I don't want to go back to Orzammar, so no king seat for me. I don't wish to know the secret I haven't found on my own, so no deeper knowledge. I am a dwarf, so no extreme magical power boost...”  
  
The enraged demon howled and attacked them before Sangrin could continue his musings. They fought it off easily enough.  
  
“So impatient.” Complained Sangrin to chuckling Garrett. Garrett looked at him and nodded with a grin.  
  
“You have enraged it so much that the demon forgot to entice me instead.”  
  
They found pacing Fenryel in the courtyard. He stopped his nervous pacing as he turned to Garrett.  
  
“I am not sure if this is real. If so it is the second time I owe you my life.”  
  
Garrett calmed the boy down and explained him his situation. Fenryel understood very quickly as he was aware of his awakening powers. He knew he needed to be trained, but dalish couldn't help him as most of the somniari arts were lost to them. He decided to find help in Terwinter Imperium and asked Garrett to pass his words onto his mother. Then with the casual wave, he left the fade.  
  
“Talk about impulsive youth.” Muttered Sangrin. “His mother won't be happy about it.”  
  
“She will understand, besides he is alive and awake, is he not?” Responded Garrett.  
  
When they awoke and gave Fenryel goodbyes, his mother decided to pack her things and return to her clan. Keeper Marethari congratulated Garrett on accomplishing impossible, she didn't think saving Fenryel could be done. Sangrin just scoffed in his mind, one should not give up just because it seemed impossible.  
  
  
  


Sangrin looked around the burning city, he could hear the screams and sound of fighting. The fresh corpses littered the ground. While he was dealing with the Carta and its assassins on the outskirts of the city, the viscount son was killed, some elves converted to the qun and quanari decided it was a great time for rebellion. Sanrin pondered this as he defended some lost kids against attacking quanari. He was definitely missing some important points, which led the city into this chaotic state. He was away for only a few hours, how did it degrade so quickly?  
  
He decided to check on the Hawke estate. Garrett probably didn't have time to defend his mother, servants or manor, if he was becoming champion again. In the previous past, Varic told him that Garrett defeated quanari leader Arishok in single combat. Hopefully, this will stay the same. On his way from Darktown Sangrin slowly gathered a group of wandering children, who decided that he was a great shield. In their eyes, the battling dwarf with a giant mabari, who went through quanari and thugs like butter, was the safest place in the chaotic city. He managed to stumble upon panicked Bethany in Lowtown. She was trying to get back to manor when the riot started.  
  
She gave Sangrin surrounded by the group of children resigned look and just went with the flow. She didn't ask him where did he gather the brats, just helped him protect them until they reached her family estate. The Hawke estate managed to resist the attack. With the help of Sangrin, Bethany and Fenrir they pushed attackers back and protected the manor. Leandra was very happy to see Bethany. At least she knew that one of her children was healthy and safe.  
  
As the conflict continued through the night, the manor became a provisional hospital with Bethany as the main healer. Children were running around helping her with the wounded people whose Sangrin managed to find through the surrounding mayhem. They barricaded themselves and waited for the resolution of the riot. It was early morning when news about Garrett reached them. About his courageous defence of the city and subsequent crowning as its champion.  
  
The man himself came a few hours later, tired and wounded. Varic, Isabella, Meril and Fenris followed him looking similarly tired and just done with life. After some quick explanation, they went to sleep. The city was quiet again. Aveline and her guard helped to restore order through the streets. Quanari quietly left the city with tome after the defeat of Arishok. There was no follow up tension from a qun. Sangrin suspected that they already had their grasp on more interesting fish than constantly unhappy Kirkwall.  
  
City slowly recovered. Unfortunately, even on patched up vase, the cracks were still visible. While quanari departure eased up the overcrowding issue of the city, it left templars and mages with more conflict than before. Who knew that invading quanari held the attention of the majority of fanatics living in the city. Now that their obstacle in the shape of the qun was gone, they turned their gazes onto mage problem. Sangrin knew this would end up in tears, so he promptly left this pit behind and went to explore the world.


	10. Old acquaintances and new courtships

Sangrin ran barefooted and half-naked through wide corridors of the manor. There were sounds of chase following him. He wasn't sure if it was slavers using this manor illegally or that giant spiders infesting this place. It didn't really matter because without any weapon he was as good as dead, even his phasing hand wouldn't save him against their number advantage. At least he still had his trousers. His dignity wasn't crushed entirely. He ran looking for his weapons and armour, he could hear Fenrir barking on the other side of the manor.  
  
They got ambushed by the slavers on their way through Nevarra near Hunter Fell. While Sangrin had released most of the slaves, he got captured instead. It was pathetic and he will never mention it to his friends. There would be no end of stupid jokes about it. He was little surprised slavers hadn't killed him or his mabari. It was a great oversight on their part, but he won't complain against his unexpected fortune. He managed to get free before they could shackle him with a slave collar. They hadn't expected that his lyrium covered hand could be weaponised.  
  
Evidently, slavers had mages in their group as the collar was imbued with magic, forcing the poor slaves to fulfil all the orders. It was an impressive piece of magic as it could overwrite innate distaste, resistance or even fear of the slave for each order to force absolute obedience. He will need to find the ones he released and check if they had collars on their necks. Sangrin didn't see before he was subdued and captured. He found some daggers on his way, but he truly wished to get his hands on his war hammer. So he could properly educate these idiots about errors in their occupation.  
  
He burst into the room and stumbled in surprise. Two people were wrestling on the floor. The man on top had a knife pushed into the flesh of the one lying on the floor. With twisted expression, he tried to carve something into their flesh. There was painted grunt as blood poured onto the carpet. Sangrin didn't deliberate any further and used his surprising entrance to kick the man away. Then quickly followed with the dagger into his throat. The man died quickly.  
  
“Are you alright?” He turned to the other person in the room. He almost blurted out Krem name when he saw him slowly standing up holding his bleeding arm.  
  
“Yeah, I will live.” Sangrin quickly made provisional bandages to stop the bleeding. “Thanks.”  
  
Sangrin nodded and without other questions followed the sound of barking echoing through corridors. He looked into each room he passed, hoping to find his weapons or armour. He looked at Krem with most of his armour damaged but intact missing just weapons. Why was he the only one divested of everything bar his trousers? It's not like he would kill his assailants with his shirt or shoes. Well, maybe shoes could do it. They were part of the legion armour with hardened leather, metal and inwrought runes. He heard Krem following after him, but they didn't speak to each other. They stumbled into a garishly decorated opulent room. His eyes hurt as he looked around golden decorations. Then he cried out in happiness. There were his hammer and legion armour.  
  
“That hammer is yours?” Sangrin nodded to wide-eyed Krem. He knew his war hammer was sweet, one of a kind weapon. It made him distinct and easily identified to chasinds, but he would listen to all their embarrassing greetings for it. It was just that overpowered. Once he donned his armour and didn't feel so exposed, he ran for the stairs nearby. Fenrir needed saving, but if Krem was here then Iron Bull with his chargers wasn't far either.  
  
There were sounds of painted whining and more shouts. Sangrin picked up his pace. He ran into the main hall and was greeted by pure chaos. There was a big group of slavers, they had few mages in their midst. They surrounded Iron Bull, his bleeding mabari and three other unarmed wounded chargers.  
  
“Chief!” Krem threw the sword he found to Iron Bull, who easily caught it and impaled the closest slaver. The room froze in surprise. Sangrin ground his teeth in rage and growled out. “What have you done to my dog.”  
  
Sangrin body practically radiated bloodlust as he eyed the group of slavers. Most of them knew they would die today.  
  
  
  
  
This slaver base was most probably part of the bigger network. It was not only big with a lot of well trained and armed slavers, but also properly supplied. They used spider nests as cover and occupied the winter mansion of some nevarran noble. Once exposed they would use the noble as their scapegoat. Iron Bull and his chargers got hired to clear the nests by said noble but hadn't expected to come across the slave trade operation. That's the main point why Sangrin thought they were part of a bigger slaver network, as he wasn't aware of them either before they ambushed him.  
  
It was their bad luck when they decided that Sangrin or Chargers would make great slaves. Sangrin helped chargers to clean out slavers and spiders from the manor. They picked up all the members of Bull's band in different parts of the mansion and in different state of resistance, released the slaves and killed any slaver that was still moving. Then they helped Sangrin to track the slaves he had released previously. Sangrin destroyed their collars and advised them where to go and who to look for. They just needed to mention his name.  
  
Iron Bull impressed by Sangrin conduct invited him to join his company. They didn't have the numbers Sangrin remembered from his previous past yet but already proved themselves to be an exceptional mercenary band and were slowly getting famous. Sangrin while flattered declined. He already promised to help Faren check some tunnels around grey warden fortress and didn't want to be late. Iron Bull wasn't discouraged. He knew that if he stayed on good terms with this dwarf, it would lead to great fortune. He always listened to his instincts.  
  
While chargers went to get paid for their job well done, Sangrin declined his part of the reward and followed clues left behind by slavers. They hurt his mabari, he had a bone to pick with them. It was in the same direction as he was heading to meet with Faren. He could free some more slaves on his way.

  
  


Sangrin sacked two other slaver bases and released some more slaves on his way to Weisshaupt. Unfortunately, slaver network he followed, went deeper into Imperium instead of Anderfels. Not surprising considering Tervinter Imperium had a big population of slaves and tendency to make more. Not all of the slaves he released were happy about it. Sangrin offered them freedom and they could do anything about it, even continue to be slaves. He understood that not all of them were there against their will, but that wasn't his problem. They could just find another slaver group to offer their freedom to them. Their loss.  
  
Sangrin ignored any protests, offered help to ones that wanted it and just went on his way to meet Faren. His friend had some business in Weisshaupt Fortress and asked Sangrin to help him out in checking some tunnels nearby. They knew there was an opening to the part of the Deep Roads, but couldn't find it. There were reports of some darkspawn activity, so they needed to check it out. Faren decided that instead of blind search he would ask for help from an expert. And if there was a dwarf who could sniff out openings and travel through Deep Roads, then it was his friend.  
  
Faren met with Sangrin not far from the fortress. He was accompanied by Muriel and other two grey wardens Sangrin hadn't met yet. Faren grinned at his friend.  
  
“Beloved one.” Sangrin groaned and hid his face in his hands surrounded by chuckles.  
  
“That's not funny Faren.”  
  
“It's hilarious and you know it.” Sangrin decided to ignore Faren attempts to embarrass him and changed the subject.  
  
“How is Rica? Tired of Ferelden already?”  
  
“Sister is fine. She is in charge of new recruits and Alistair.” Sangrin laughed at that but didn't disagree. The childish man indeed needed a babysitter. “And no, after this Muriel and I will go back to Ferelden. There are just some discrepancies, which warden-commander Caron asked us to check out.”  
  
Sangrin frowned at that. Corypheus shouldn't be awake yet. Did this mean that the influence of that crazy darkspawn was so widespread even in his sealed state? Sangrin knew that the darkspawn would brake out of his prison even if Sangrin tried to postpone it. That fight was after all inevitable. Corypheus worked long and hard at his evil plan to become a god.  
  
Faren told him about the reports they received on recent darkspawn activity and where they should check first. It didn't take Sangrin long to find the entrance into the tunnels. It was in a place, which was hard to access and hidden between boulders. Unexpectedly, it became an extensive network which led them deeper into Anderfels. There were signs of increased activity as well. They quickly followed the tracks left behind and found newly built darkspawn nests. They were disorganized, so wardens knew they didn't have a concrete leader, but their numbers were surprising. They followed hurlock tracks as they systematically cleaned the tunnels.  
  
“We weren't aware of the underground tunnel network in this parts. We will add it into regular patrols.” Said one of the ander wardens accompanying them. Some of the tunnels enlarged and became dwarven built roads, some were dead ends closed by cave-ins.  
  
“Yeah, Sangrin has this tendency to add workload for other people.” Responded Faren dully.  
  
“That's slander!” Defended Sangrin.  
  
“He didn't mean it negatively.” Assured Muriel.  
  
“No, I definitely meant it in the worst way. Don't you remember all the added work each of his letters usually leaves us with?” Faren glared at Muriel, full of complaint.  
  
“Ah...” Muriel had an awkward expression on her face, while other wardens laughed.  
  
Sangrin pouted, he wasn't that bad. Besides they should do their own part of world-saving efforts too. Not that they were aware that there was such an effort in place. He hated the way wardens, templars and mages got used by Corypheus. He didn't think they were blameless in all that mess, but the choice they made was illusion offered by the mad creature. They would be subdued even without their assent. The thought of them being played and used was more upsetting to Sangrin, then their part as his enemy in inquisition effort to stop Corypheus. They paid for their decisions with their life, but for most of them, it wasn't truly voluntary.  
  
That was probably the main thing that pissed off Sangrin the most about Solas one-sided decision to correct the “broken world”. This cold disregard for life, for the people that lived and flourished in this world. He felt so above others that he disregarded opinions presented before him. Sangrin could understand his wish to bring back memories and the world he knew, the people he loved and cherished. But that wasn't possible. After all, it was his actions and decisions that “broke” the world. He couldn't even reflect on himself. Sangrin tried to calm his temper. This was some impressive grudge he was keeping. Dwarfs were truly as unmoving as stone, stubborn people. Maybe he couldn't be impartial to some individuals after all.  
  
He looked around the tunnels. The tracks separated and went in two different directions. The bigger group went deeper into the tunnels, the smaller one detached and went through the tunnel that headed upwards to the surface. They stopped undecided. Faren frowned.  
  
“How about Fenrir and I will go after the darkspawn that went to the surface. Once I clean them out, I will be on my way. You can follow the tracks of the bigger group.” Offered Sangrin. Faren nodded.  
“Okay, be careful and try not to die.”  
  
“That should be my line.” Scoffed Sangrin. He wished them luck and followed the tracks onto the surface. The tunnel ended in open sandy space peppered with jagged stones of different size. The weather was hot and stuffy. Sangrin groaned. He hated dessert planes the most. But it answered his contemplation about where he was or in which direction tunnels took them. Faren could probably get to the Kal-Sharok by the Deep Roads. Fenrir huffed at him impatiently and they followed the tracks that hurlocks left for them.  
  
  
  
  
High shout split the air around them. Fenrir was running before Sangrin could say anything. They ran and shortly heard the sound of fighting, shouts of men, groans and growls of hurlocks. When he turned around the last outcrop of boulders he could saw a caravan attacked by hurlocks. The defence of the guards was already breached and darkspawn attacked the frightened travellers as well. Fenrir was already helping the closest downed guard to fend off hurlock. Sangrin hurried to help them out. The pretty woman with the great lungs whose shout he heard was on the ground. Sangrin killed the hurlock towering over her first.  
  
“Mother!”  
  
The boy who hurried to the woman side was faintly familiar. Sangrin was sure they met before. He just wasn't sure where. The young man helped the woman to stand, she hugged him with a cry.  
  
“Felix!”  
  
Sangrin froze for a second. It was no surprise he couldn't connect that ill dying man with the young man hugging his mother. The contrast was too great. Maybe it was here he contracted taint that caused his deteriorating health in the future. Sangrin wasn't sure. Dorian didn't like to talk about Felix and he didn't try to get information from the crazy magister.  
  
He continued to help the suppressed guards to defend the caravan against darkspawn attack. With Sangrin help they regrouped and fended off the hurlocks. A lot of guards and few travellers died in this unexpected ambush. With the insistence of travellers and guards, Sangrin with his mabari accompanied them to Hosssberg as an added defence in case of more surprises.  
  
  
  
  
Sangrin stared at the man standing before him stuck speechless in the place. The man, magister Gereon Alexius, held his hands tightly, his face was drenched with the tears and was continuously thanking him for his help in saving his wife and his only son. It felt unreal. Sangrin contemplated if he was dreaming or stuck in the fade again. He couldn't connect this thankful warm sophisticated man to that depressed husk of a mage he met in Redcliffe. It gave him creeps, but he didn't manage to refuse his invitation for dinner in his surprise.  
  
The dinner was held in Sangrin honour in magister mansion. It was a lavish but tastefully decorated place, that was centre of their research involving time and fade. That didn't surprise Sangrin. What stuck out to him was that it wasn't really centred around time travel. It was more about time itself as a separate dimension affecting magic. The woman he saved, magister Alexius wife, mage Livia was also an accomplished researcher. She was responsible for the fade part of their joined research. She truly knew her stuff and Sangrin got tangled in a debate about fade with her.  
  
Livia on the other hand didn't expect to find a fade enthusiast in a dwarf, the race without any connection to the magic or fade. She didn't know there was a dwarf that had experiences with a fade, she didn't even know it was possible. Sangrin saw a scientific interest burn in her eyes and promptly started to evade her. He wasn't going to be a part of any magic research, ever.  
  
There were at least other dozen mages present in the mansion during dinner. Half of them were current apprentices of the magister and his wife. Dorian included. The man was as irrelevant and self-centred as Sangrin remembered, but he was missing that depressed drop to his shoulders. While his opinions were as unapologetic as future ones, they were less frustrated and didn't hold the deep cynicism of his future counterpart.  
  
Time truly changed people. Some grew and became better, some lost their way. He never thought how big of an impact some experiences could have on a person. This happy and fulfilled man had nothing to do with the depressed power hungry mad man he encountered. He still could see his pride, vanity, determination and devotion for his magic research but it had entirely different sense into it. That desperate grab for power, that fanatic devotion to Venatori was missing. Would he still become an agent of Venatori? Will he mess with the time and fade again? He might have saved his family now, but what if they died in another accident? Sangrin could only wait and see.  
  
Fenrir found his soulmate in Felix. The mabari was all over the mild young man who gave him scratches and praised him to high heavens. Sangrin got sat on by Fenrir when he tried to discourage Felix from overindulging the dog. It left Felix in stitches with laughter. Dorian also got bowled over when he tried to get Felix attention. Dorian complained extensively to Sangrin about it the whole dinner party but hadn't tried to get near Felix again. It wasn't like Sangrin could help him with the stubborn mabari. He was used to the whimsy of his overgrown dog.  
  
After dinner Sangrin forgone goodbyes and promptly ran away from that twilight zone. Some changes weren't good for his mental health. He felt shivers wrack his frame each time he thought about that encounter. He just couldn't think positively about magister Alexius in any way. It felt wrong. He left Livia with a lot of inspiration for research, thankful Gereon who strengthened protection of his family, Felix with a newfound appreciation for dogs and Dorian jealous of a certain mabari. Sangrin thought that his second run at life was bizarre.


	11. Footprints left behind through the letters III

Rumours surrounding Sangrin were getting more audacious with each mess he fell into. Trying to help people became like a conditioned reflex. Because each change it could produce however small was staggering to Sangrin. Positive or negative, it didn't matter to him. He couldn't truly judge how detrimental each change was, because his opinion was subjective and only time could hold the answer. Maybe if all the smaller changes converged, then big ones could change too.

In its entirety, it was a waiting game, because most of the situations he found himself as an inquisitor were accumulated over a long time. The plans that Corypheus had were older than Sangrin himself. That fallout was inevitable. The change didn't need to be positive, just distinct. Hearts of different people were complex and unpredictable. There was no way for him to order them what to do, if that was possible, then he could just create an artificial peace and be done with it. Life wasn't that easy. All magic in existence couldn't make everybody feel happy and content.

Time was such a complex thing. Some of the situations proceeded as he remembered just with different people, some were entirely different from the same people making different choices. Sometimes he saw people who were antagonistic before, fighting at the same side against a bigger enemy, other times the people that should have been friends couldn't stand each other. With each year ripples, he made were getting bigger, sometimes bringing unexpected results. It was ridiculous, but he was never more happy to be alive.

_ Dear Sangrin, _

_ You are truly a trouble magnet, one of a kind. I have never met anyone who could get to so many bizarre situations as you. We understand that most of the tales are exaggerated to add the suspension to the story, but some of them are plain ridiculous. We wouldn't believe them at all if we didn't know you. I hope you are aware that your hero aura is spreading. One day you will get saddled with the world-saving quest! Mark my word. _

_ I am also forwarding official “Thank you” from Weisshaupt Fortress for your help in mapping of those tunnels. They have marked the new openings and changed defensive strategy for some of the villages nearby. It's a little weird to see how much influence grey wardens have in Anderfels. With how much damage the Blight caused to the country it is understandable but still feels wrong. We should be a shield against Blight, not a ruling body. We should be seen as protectors. It is easier to understand why all the rulers are so nervous about grey wardens. _

_ Faren also managed to save new warden-constable for Val Chevin by the name Blackwall. He and his new recruits got ambushed by the group of darkspawn Faren and Muriel were chasing through Deep Roads on their way back to Ferelden. Thanks to you we have the Stormcoast mapped and we were expecting their return, so the ambush got turned around. We obliterated all the darkspawn without any loss on our side. We are just that badass. _

_ Proudly puffing my chest,  
Rica _

_ Dear Faren and Rica, _

_ Don't even mention it! I am not planning to become some figurehead of a world-saving organization. Please don't curse me with something so outrageous. If you by any chance hear about someone looking for me to fulfil such a position, turn them around. I am not interested. _

_ I have also made friends with the most hilarious mercenary group I have ever met, but they have great potential. Their name is Bull's Chargers and they are led by a quanari who named himself Iron Bull. I think this is the first quanari I have met with an actual name. Even Sten, that travelled with me during Blight, was named by his position or designation rather than the actual name. _

_ Last time I have met with the Chargers they were dealing with Gattler's Giants. You know that bandit group causing troubles between Montfort and Andoral's Reach in Orlais. The truly annoying one with overcompensating armour. They must have had a good backer to get their gear. Most of the mercenaries wouldn't go against such an organized bandit group. But I must say that final showdown between Iron Bull and Gattler's Giants was comical. _

_ Iron Bull challenged Gattler's Giants leader to single combat. You could see how assured the poor sod was about himself when he accepted an obvious taunt. Didn't even check if he was walking into a trap. Well, it was their last mistake as Iron Bull broke a dam on all of them. And while the poor suckers drowned, Bull's Chargers swam away. I don't think I laughed so hard in a while. Priceless. _

_ Always on the move,  
Sangrin _

Sangrin thought about his previous life a lot. Contemplating his decisions and motives as well as the action of others. It was so obvious in retrospect, but it didn't mean he agreed or wanted to do the same thing. He thought about walking away. To abandon the Thedas he knew and walk to his probable death on the edge of his known world. To leave it all behind and get lost in the Sea of Ash or discover what lay behind Donarks. But after saving Faren he couldn't do it. His actions were his own and he will live with results they will bring.

He never truly could abandon someone asking for his help. Because he understood the desperation behind the begging for help of a complete stranger. It bit him in the ass few times, but the general results were positive. Sangrin always believed in treating others the way you want to be treated in return. It didn't mean he would let them walk over him, he was too vindictive and short-tempered for that. But it meant he would go to extreme ends for people he held precious.

He also thought that Solas should get some counselling. After all that thousands of years in fade and lost friends and loved ones couldn't be good for mental health and sanity. Most of their talks in his previous life looped around fade, its residents or situations long past. Sangrin didn't think Solas made any real friends during his stay with Inquisition and he wasn't sure they were even real to him. It was like he couldn't accept the reality he was presented with and his answer was living in absolute denial. Sangrin wasn't even sure if there was anything he could do to change elf decision at this point. Maybe a miracle will happen.

_ Dear Sangrin, _

_ You probably already heard about a revolt in Edgehall. While the town wasn't ravaged during the Blight it's alienage got hit pretty hard. It's already been more than three years from the end of the Blight but the alienage still haven't been repaired and its walls were in a desolate state. When they asked Arl for reparations their vhenadahl got burnt instead. To make matters worse, when dalish clan nearby offered new sapling he ordered his man to confiscate it. It was a bloodbath. King Cailan got called to resolve the issue in the end and Arl was beheaded.  _

_ I can't stress enough how happy I am that Theron and Kallian were not present when things got really heated. They are accompanying Alistair on his personal quest. Rica is also part of the party, to keep them on a shorter leash. I am not sure if she will stop them or incite them when problems eventually crop up. Hopefully, we won't hear new tales about crazy ferelden grey wardens, but I am not holding my breath on this one. To make things clear I blame you for this insanity. _

_ Ferelden is also celebrating the birth of kings son Brandel. Queen Anora will finally get rid of her father nagging about heirs. We will just hope that my prediction about stupidity being hereditary was wrong and the boy will get more personality traits from his mother side of the family. While I can't stand Loghain, he at least has a proper brain, which is working. Please do not quote me on this. It will just inflate the ego of that insufferable human. _

_ Silently suffering,  
Faren _

_ Dear Faren and Rica, _

_ You were right about my notoriety spreading through Thedas and I can add another country where I am undesirable number one. The funniest part is that it's still the chantry behind the banishment. As you already know Orlais isn't really hot about my presence in their country and I can proudly add Tervinter Imperium onto the list. _

_ Instead of Andrastian Chantry, they call it Imperial Chantry and the divine is a man, also called black divine. The society here is a magocracy and they truly dislike the other chantry. I think that this disgust is mutual. But when you think about it and compare the chants, you can get a picture of the possible truth. The betrayal is the reason for a schism in the chantry. When you think about all the bullshit with the golden city, magic and sin creating darkspawn, then you can be pretty sure that someone stepped into a nasty shit there. _

_ Anyway, I was cleaning up some slaver dens and got tangled up with the local assassin guilt. It all culminated in Vyrantium with the giant magical explosion. The city has now a permanent crystal design and there is a giant lyrium pillar instead of an important famous cemetery. Thankfully causalities consisted of slavers, assassins and few unimportant mages. Unfortunately, one of the irrelevant mages had a relation to the current black divine, which wouldn't be that bad if the incident didn't end in the rumours about Andraste descent from the havens. I am not sure what prompted the rumours, but there was a hallucinogenic gas involved in the explosion, so that might be the origin of it all. But I assure you both there was no heavenly descent involved, either the Maker or Andraste. _

_ Some of the rumours are just wild and I live to see the face of either divine when they hear it. _

_ Constantly in trouble,  
Sangrin _

Kirkwall was again ravaged by a giant explosion this time around, but it wasn't a chantry that blew up. The one going up in flames was circle tower and templar quarters, with most of its residents present for the show. This meant that Meredith and Orsino died in a violent explosion. It singled some of the docks and gallows as well. It was speculated that this was a response to Meredith try to call the Right of Anulment to shut down the Circle. Sangrin heard that they didn't know who was behind the explosion and Garrett got appointed as a new viscount. Sangrin wasn't sure what led to this particular change.

Cullen and Garrett brother were a few templars that lived as they were chasing some blood mages outside the city limits at the time of the explosion. Even if the violence wasn't aimed at chantry, the subsequent tension it produced was equally as high strung and violent. Mages all over Thedas started revolting in response to the heightened control and persecution. While the Circles still stood, their fall was inevitable. Something needed to be done before the tension will become a violent conflict, which will end in all-out war.

Sangrin was also informed about Garrett's slaying of Corypheus. He just sighed. Looks like the crazy dakspawn was free once again. He will need to warn his friends to be prepared for the sneaky attack from an insane creature. Hopefully, the grey wardens will manage to stay strong and will find a way to oppose false promises of a false god. He had no idea where Solas orb currently was and he didn't think he could stop this madness. Maybe he could talk to the elf. Maybe he could suggest less open portals to the fade decorating the Thedas. It might even work.

_ Dear Sangrin, _

_ Things are getting truly heated in Ferelden. The mages are getting more vocal every day and it isn't even the templars that are opposing them, but chantry personnel. The templars are just stuck between a boulder and a hard place. I am not trying to defend them, there are rotten eggs everywhere, but your usual templar isn't standard unfeeling fanatic hellbent on suppression of mages. _

_ Rica and her party aren't back yet, but from what I heard we will be also persona non grata in Tervinter Imperium soon. I am not suggesting that they are following your footsteps, but that you won't be only one on wanted list with criminal charges to their name in the Imperium. So much for "avoid creating problems" and "not causing the international conflict". I saw commander Caron despair after the last report we received on their progress. You should share details and suggestions once they are back in Ferelden. _

_ Also, could you stop inciting the wrath of the chantry? It doesn't matter which one. You will be burnt one day as a heretic, doesn't matter how hilarious your exploit truly are.  _

_ On the other note, I have passed your warnings to the warden-commander Caron. We started to inquire for more information and the result aren't very promising. While we don't have any proof for your suspicions the current situation isn't as clean-cut so we can't really dismiss them either. We both know that something isn't right. _

_ In the end, if nothing is resolved me and Rica will follow your advice. _

_ Tired and worried,  
Faren _

_ Dear Faren and Rica, _

_ Ferelden isn't the only country slowly succumbing into chaos. This tense status quo won't last long. For example just the other day the empress tried to suppress elves in Haramshiral. There was some bullshit about attacked noble or something and it got out of the hand. It was a mess, but I can report that I make a great smuggler. _

_ Also, the Dales aren't my preferred vacation spot either. There is a bandit group establishing their hold. Right now there is few of them, but with the escalating tension that won't be the case in the future. They call themselves Freemen of the Dales and are hiding behind anti-government propaganda. I don't think it's their true goal but they are making locals clearly uncomfortable. But as the empress position isn't that stable right now, I don't think anybody will stop their spreading influence in Dales. _

_ I also heard that mages in the Free Marches revolted entirely and there are blood mages creating unrest from the shadows. There are rumours about demons and plagues targeting only humans. While demons could be dealt with, the plague will become just an excuse to attack elves in alienage. The mages are most probably behind that one as well. And that is just the tip of the iceberg. I am not sure what can be done about all this, but we will live in some violent times soon enough. _

_ I've heard that chantry wishes for the conclave to resolve the mage issue, to stop this mounting violence. I am not sure how successful it will be. _

_ Dodging the battles,  
Sangrin _

The conflict was slowly spreading through Thedas. Sangrin wished that conclave this time would succeed and would bring a peaceful solution to this insanity, but he wasn't really counting on that. Even without the explosion and horrifying death of divine Justinia, both factions were played by the Corypheus from shadows and chantry would never offer fair terms to the mages. The war between them was inevitable.

It was ironic that Corypheus meddling offered the easiest solution for the peaceful resolution of their conflict and subsequent change in the fate of the mages and templars. He wished that there was a less bloody way with fewer portals popping out everywhere, but at this point, there was no way anybody would listen to him. Maybe this time a right solution will just magically present itself. Sangrin looked at the crumbled message in his hands. Yeah, right.

He looked at the message again. It looks like Solas was awake as well and he knew Sangrin, or at least he knew about Sangrin. He wasn't sure if he truly wished that there was another time traveller and if there was, why it had to be that knife-eared dick. Sangrin despaired in his mind. But nothing in massage said that he remembered the different past or that he was aware that the current timeline wasn't going as it should. Maybe Sangrin was just paranoid and Rica was right about his notoriety. Nothing more to it...yeah, no. His luck was just this unbelievable.

Sangrin destroyed the message. He resolved to accept Solas invitation to appease his own worries and curiosity. There was only one way to find out the truth. Sangrin shrugged, if this end in a tragedy he won't be really surprised about the outcome, would he.


	12. Heralding for dummies

Sangrin slowly walked through elven ruins. The weather of Arbor Wilds was hot and damp. The jungle was a little less uncomfortable than dessert, but Sangrin disliked it all the same. He clearly wasn't made for hot sunny weather. It was a reprieve to step into the sprawling shadowed ruins, even if the atmosphere was a little heavy and suffocating. The unsuccessful magic ritual could easily result in that. He knew Cradle of Sulevin like a back of his hand but he wasn't looking for sword fragments residing in this ruins. He and Fenrir got rid of the corpses, which attacked them and made themselves comfortable in the middle of the main courtyard.  
  
Sangrin looked around. He was familiar with the tale of the ancient tragedy of this particular ruins. Was it pride or desperation that led elves to their decision? To stake it all on a ritual with uncertain results. In the end, their lives were claimed by their innocent victims and they didn't change anything. Were the victims truly innocent? Were the elves truly sure that ritual would work? Maybe it worked but there was nobody left to use it for the intended purpose. In the end Exalted March ended in the victory of the chantry. Was there a point to this tragedy?  
  
Sangrin sighed. There were always more questions than answers in these pointless legends. Elves should truly find a better way to keep their records and teachings. Humans weren't helping it in their crusade to inhibit any elven development, but as the longest living race they had most of the answers. Such a shame the history was written by victors. There was a sound of quiet footsteps behind him. Fenrir growled softly from his position at Sangrin side but hadn't moved.  
  
“Sangrin.”  
  
Sangrin tensed, slowly stood up and turned around. And there he was in all his bald glory. He looked the same as when Sangrin first met him. He wasn't sure what he expected to change. Sangrin frowned.  
  
“Do you know me?”  
  
An uncertain expression flitted through Solas face. “No...but I have dreamt about you.”  
  
Well, that explained nothing. Sangrin frown deepened and he was sporting an impressive scowl. He glared at Solas.  
  
“Could you elaborate?”  
  
“It's hard to explain.”  
  
“Try me.” Sangrin bit out. Solas hesitated, but he must come to some decision because he continued his broken explanation. Seriously. If Sangrin didn't have his previous memories, their talks about Solas opinions and experiences, knowledge about fade, he wouldn't understand any of this bullshit. If he didn't consider this insensitive dick a friend, he would just kill the idiot for all the trouble.  
  
“As I was sleeping, I felt a violent shift in a fade. Then my dreams changed and became a vision.” Sangrin just blankly gazed at the elf waiting. “Vision of a dwarf trying to patch up the torn sky.”  
  
Sangring looked at Solas with surprise. “You saw my life?”  
  
“Some parts of it.” Nodded Solas. “I also saw its end.”  
  
Sangrin anger peaked and he growled. Taking a deep breath he tried to calm down. He won't try to strangle this braindead idiot. Solas was always a cryptic tight-lipped asshole, nothing new here. He should be used to his personality already. Solas sighed and continued.  
  
“Then I woke up and my visions didn't match the current situation...not entirely, even if they saw into the future. Some of it came to pass, but results are different and you are the most likely cause of it.”  
  
Sangrin gave Solas a droll look.  
  
“Nice deduction, you want a gold star or something?”  
  
“No need to be so antagonistic.” Placated the elf.  
  
“No need! No need to be....antagonistic!? I will shove my fist into your face so you can feel my antagonism!” Spit out Sangrin. “If you saw the end you must know who caused it.”  
  
Solas awkwardly looked away from Sangrin. “Yes.”  
  
Sangrin clenched his fists, his knuckles itched. He will punch him in the face, he just knew it. He tried to adjust his breathing and to calm down. There was no need for violence. There was silence. Sangrin didn't ask if it was the end the Solas desired so much. Sangrin doubted it, something evidently went wrong. He wouldn't be here otherwise. Solas was too proud and set in his ways to ask for help or for a bit of advice. Something he saw must have changed his mind.  
  
“So?” Sangrin prompted. Solas looked at the Sangrin again. “You can't force your idea of a correct way of life on other elves. They have changed, experienced different things and learned different lessons. The world around changed with them. Thousands of years have passed already, Solas. You can't take it back!”  
  
Solas bristled. “What would you make me do then!”  
  
“Have you tried to live?” The air stalled around them. “Without some higher cause and perfect crusade. You are not responsible for their decisions. Have you considered other opinions for yourself? They won't thank you for their freedom, even if you offer a better life. Not all of them. Not now, not ever.”  
  
Solas glared at Sangrin full of righteous anger. “You don't know th...”  
  
“And you do!?” Solas expression cracked and he deflated. Sangrin sighted. He knew the elf wasn't evil or that dumb. He must have known it as well if the truly saw glimpses of their possible future. So he tried to reason again.  
  
“The people you knew, the cause you fought for are in the past. Why not leave them there. You can become a new Solas as well, you can meet new people and built a new cause. Which will change the current world not tear it apart!” Sangrin shook his head. “You are not stupid. Humans, elves, dwarves...we are not that different. You should know the basic nature of your own people. You know their history. Why can't you see the true picture of what your cause has become?” Solas frowned.  
  
“You mean it was pointless! That my actions meant nothing! That my people are the slaves they always were meant to be!”  
  
“No! Get off your high horse already! The one with the lowest opinion here is you!”  
  
Both of them glared at each other. Sangrin growled. This was getting them nowhere. He wasn't here to lecture the elf. The world wasn't perfect, but it didn't need to be. His life had its ups and downs even without brainwashed elf with a holy crusade in it.  
  
“What do you want Solas. You wouldn't call me here if you believed that your veil solution was the correct choice. You would just proceed with higher speed.”  
  
“I...” Solas hesitated again. This must have caused him a true inner turmoil. He never saw Solas so hesitant in both his lives. “Look I...” Solas cleared his throat awkwardly and tried again. “You were right.”  
  
Sangrin stared at the elf and contemplated if he was hallucinating. There was no way he was trying to apologize, was there?  
  
“...alllllriiight...” This was unexpected. Sangrin frowned in consternation. So what was the problem then? If he didn't plan to tear the veil any more then there was no issue, right? He looked questioningly at Solas. Solas awkwardly looked to the side and coughed quietly.  
  
“I...don't know where the orb is.”  
  
“You've got to be kidding me.”  
  
“Unfortunately, I do not. If I had felt the shift, Corypheus most probably felt it as well.”  
  
“And he stole your orb instead of you benevolently giving it to him.” Finished Sangrin. “Oh, this is golden. Just great!” Sangrin despaired. He should have listened to his instincts and just offed them all when he had a chance. Then he looked with horrified expression at Solas.  
  
“Does it mean that Corypheus had a vision as well?”  
  
“No...well...I saw only parts where I was present.” Sangrin just blankly stared at him. “While you were the cause of the shift, I could only see the parts where the future me was present.”  
  
Sangrin slowly nodded.  
  
“So he knows about the orb and it's potential, that's why he took it.” Sangrin contemplated if he should start to pray to some higher deity. “We are still in a deep shit.” Sangrin glared at Solas. “We will look for your stupid orb, try to stop the insane darkspawn and if it explodes again I will rearrange your face. Are we clear?”  
  
Solas face was cross between guilty and haughty expression. Sangrin thought it was hilarious.  
  
“There is no need for such drastic measures.” Solas tried to placate Sangrin.  
  
“You would think that.” Retorted Sangrin.

  


  
  


Trying to chase after Corypheus proved quite challenging. At least for Sangrin. The mad darkspawn was evidently aware that Sangrin posed an adversary in his plans, but he wasn't aware of Solas. So he just sent all his henchmen into Sangrin path to slow him down. More details proved that recently recovered fade dreamers were unaware of the extent of Sangrin actions or his full past. That gave Solas more space to outflank Corypheus.  
  
So Sangrin left it all to the elf and posed as an ideal target. It's not like his life changed. He already proved himself being a major disruptor of Venatori and other criminal organizations plans. He was like a splinter under the nail. Sangrin revelled in his taunting and disruptive behaviour. He just hoped the elf would succeed. It was time to do his own part in world-saving slash changing effort and if he had another insane underhanded plan. Well, tough luck, Sangrin was just planing to pile it all on Solas head. That way the elf might be too busy to cocoon another daft plan.

The Bull's Chargers were unexpected help in his one-man guerilla warfare against Venatori and other Corypheus henchmen. Iron Bull had a bone to pick with the mages himself and easily went with Sangrin destructive plans for the fanatics. He even found it hilarious that mages managed to get on the wrong side of this particular dwarf. You would think that with all rumour flying around about Sangrin you would avoid this result with all your power. Well, some people are just that stupid or just that unlucky.  
  
Snagrin just hoped that Solas won't kill Mythal again. While Solas friend was gone, her echo didn't wish to be part of Solas stupid plans. Sangrin suspected she had her own intentions for the future and that they involved Morrigan, but her daughter was too prideful to see them. When they realized that Flemeth was the holder of Mythal and Morrigan became her literal slave by drinking from the Well of Sorrows it was priceless. They could repeat that gag again.  
  
He also lost contact with his friends. He received his last letter from Faren and Rica just before he met with Solas. They assured him that they were well, but won't be exchanging letters in near future. Either things went very badly or they went metaphorically underground. He knew they would ask for his help if they didn't have any other opinion. He just needed to believe in them. Hopefully, they will find a way to fight against darkspawn sway.  
  
Thedas slowly drowned in unrest and Temple of Sarced Ashes became the place of the conclave summoned by divine Justinia again. Sangrin was too busy with his stalkers to participate. They become truly relentless, so he was sure that Corypheus planned to re-enact the ritual. If this will end up with him being torn apart again, he will haunt Solas for eternity. He will find a way to devour his flesh and rip his soul. Maybe he should truly punch him to get rid of these violent tendencies.  
  
While he tried to avoid Venatori agents, he and his mabari fell into Stormcoast dragon nest. Sanrin was sure that the creature was more north when he as herald was requested to slay it. He hadn't considered that it could have moved its nest. Stupid of him, he knew. But unexpectedly dragon hadn't considered them a danger and just rudely threw them away like unwanted trash. When Venatori followed, the bigger group was judged otherwise and got burned instead. Fenrir and Sangrin looked at each other.  
  
“We are unprecedentedly lucky.” The dog just huffed at Sangrin. Fenrir was also surprised they weren't dead yet.  
  
Then there was an earthquake, deep rumble and pillar of green light shot into the sky creating a giant green vortex. Sangrin stared blankly at the tearing sky.  
  
“I am going to stab that idiot.”

  


  
  


Getting to the Haven in all the chaos was unexpectedly hard. If it wasn't revolting mages or templars, then it was raving demons or opportunistic bandits. It was tiring but Sangrin was familiar with this madness, he knew that it wouldn't last long. At least some individuals would make sure to calm it and restore order. He already heard some rumours about budding Inquisition and miraculous Herald. They already managed to stabilize the biggest rift. He was just glad it wasn't him. Most importantly he had an elf to strangle.  
  
Why he taught that Solas was in Haven? Well, because he had stayed and helped even the first time around. It was his best bet to find and get his freaking orb, which will most probably be useless again after they get it back. Sucks to be him. To be robbed of his power this time as well must be frustrating. They couldn't stabilize the rift without anchor aka mark and there was nobody else who could stabilize the stupid thing bar Solas. Sangrin didn't know how the elf always managed to corner himself so beautifully. Truly that convoluted logic and reasoning were giving him no reprieve. He should truly try to change his way of thinking. Well, baby steps.  
  
Sangrin looked around. The village was different. It was smaller and more compact, but its defences were better. There was also an obvious dragon influence in decoration and protection. This village could possibly withstand a dragon attack. Oh. Sangrin just remembered the dragon idol he left behind. With some inquiries, he discovered that dragon was slain a few years back after a lot of effort. This influenced the development of the Haven and the temple. While he couldn't see what become of the temple, the village was pretty promising. Who knew when he ignored the beast it would provide better protection from a Corypheus infected pet.  
  
While he looked around, a voice full of surprise called from the side. “Sangin?!”  
  
Sangrin looked and saw Varic calling him. Fenrir woofed in greeting and went to get scratches from the dwarf. Looks like Varic decided to help again, or he was interrogated and then decided to help again. Details. What was more surprising was Solas standing next to him. They were evidently talking before Varic saw him and called out to him. Solas had a disgruntled expression on his face as he looked at Sangrin. The fact that they were acquainted wasn't the surprising part. No. The surprise was the glowing green mark on Solas hand.  
  
Sangrin lips twitched as he looked at the elf. Solas scowled at the dwarf, not finding amusement in his current predicament. Sangrin snorted. Karma was a bitch and she deserved flowers. Then he melted in peals of hysteric laughter and mad cackling. This was hilarious.  
  
“This is not funny Sangrin!” Insisted offended elf.  
  
“This is precious and all my secret wishes are coming true.” Grinned amused Sangrin, when he finally managed to control his laughter. Varic chuckled.  
  
“You know each other?”  
  
Sangrin nodded to Varic. “Yeah, the moron is a friend.”  
  
Solas frowned and demanded. “Could you stop this name-calling?” Sangrin gave him a droll look.  
  
“Who is the one who lost his possessions, didn't manage to recover them and when it eventually went off got even tangled in the aftermath and now is sporting the fetching proof for it?”  
  
Solas scowled. Sangrin nodded absolutely satisfied with his life. Varic just grinned at the side. He wasn't sure what was Sangrin referring to, but it was obvious they knew each other. Sangrin looked at him.  
  
“What are you doing here Varic? I thought you would be taking advantage of your friendly relations to the viscount of the Kirkwall.”  
  
“I can do that all the time.” Shrugged Varic. “The seeker “invited” me for some chat as viscount is currently busy. She didn't take no for an answer. And when demons started to fall from the sky it got pretty tangled.”  
  
Sangrin nodded. This didn't change then. Looks like Cassandra hoped to get Garrett cooperation before it all went to shit and now had her hand full of the surly uncooperative elf. Sangrin grinned gleefully at Solas.  
  
“So...Herald...” Solas sported a long-suffering expression.  
  
“Must you?”  
  
Sangrin nodded energetically. “Absolutely, better you than me.”  
  
Solas expression fell and he looked resignedly at Sangrin.  
  
“I will never hear the end of it, will I?”  
  
“No, this will most probably become a running gag for me, it's too funny.”  
  
Solas just sighed. There was no way to stop this dwarf, it was better to concentrate on the thing he could change. He gave considering look to Sangrin.  
  
“Will you help then?”  
  
Sangrin laughed and grinned. “Sure, that's what friend are for. But you might regret it once the chantry hears about it. They dislike me very much.”  
  
Solas gave him a surprised expression, but his life would be a lot easier with this mad dwarf at his side and if it will make Corypheus and chantry very unhappy even better. Solas himself was unamused by the whole situation. If he can make other people day worse, even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Solas! Because he deserves it...for being a moron.


	13. The threat didn't change

Haven was cold and covered in constant snow, but Sangrin preferred it more than hot sweltering weather of other parts of the Thedas. He let Fenrir run wild, just asked him not to cause unnecessary trouble. That earned him a condescending look from the dog. Why did he always have a need to defend his honour before his mabari? It was obviously in question who was the real owner in their relationship. Solas chuckled at the side while observing their interactions.

On the way to the Haven chantry, they got accosted by Grand Chancellor Roderic. While the man was prepared to verbally abuse Solas he became speechless when he recognized Sangrin at his side. He emulated fish, opening and closing his mouth without any sounds coming out. He slowly lost all colour, became as white as the snow surrounding them and a strangled sound left his throat.

“The heretic!” He whimpered, turned around and practically ran away. They gazed after the frightened human in an unexpected surprise.

“If I had known it was so easy to shut him up, I would have you dragged here sooner.” Complained Solas. Sangrin shook his had.

“This is probably just initial surprise, he will get over it and will be much more insufferable later.” Solas looked contemplatively in the direction in which Roderick left in hurry. He hummed.

“Maybe.”

Sangrin grinned at the elf. “We can prank him later.”

Solas face brightened at the potential payback to the annoying human. Their way wasn't bothered by anyone any longer and they entered into the chantry. It was rebuilt and bigger than what Sangrin remembered from his run-in with fanatics years earlier. There were no signs of Disciples of Andraste any more, but Solas still got labelled as her Herald. It was ironic. Something must be in the air here.

“Sooo...do you remember your unsuccessful spat with Corypheus and subsequent frolicking through the fade?” Asked curious Sangrin. Solas gave him a condescending look.

“Yes, not everybody is as incompetent as you. And before you ask, I have reported it. They just didn't believe me.”

“How could it be, you are such an earnest fellow.” Snipped Sangrin sarcastically. Solas sulked, it wasn't like anybody would believe him if he told them the full truth. Only Sangrin tale was more unbelievable than his own. They proceeded to look for his advisors in the chantry.

Leliana and Cullen were surprised to see Sangrin. It was harder to track him down than the bunch of underground hermits. They also didn't think he would be interested in Inquisition with all the outrageous rumours and problems he caused to the chantry. The fact that Solas and Sangrin knew each other was even more surprising to them. Still, they introduced the remaining Inquisition advisor to him.

Cullen was still commander of the Inquisition's Forces, Leliana got tagged as the spymaster and purveyor of Secrets and Josephine became its ambassador and overseer of Connections. Nothing new there for Sangrin. While Cullen and Leliana were unbothered by Sangrin questionable reputation, Josephine was very worried. His presence definitely won't endear Inquisition to the Chantry. The fact that he had an antagonistic relationship with both chantries was even more alarming to her. Sangrin shrugged unbothered.

“It's just proof that they could work together and their opinions don't differ that much.” While Josepfine spluttered others chuckled. Sangrin wasn't wrong.

They received an invitation from Mother Giselle and were preparing for an expedition into Hinderlands. But with the uncooperative Solas, Sangrin with antagonistic reputation and wholesome Inquisition being considered as upstarts, they weren't sure it will get them anywhere. But they needed to start somewhere and Mother Giselle invitation had pointed them in possible direction.  


Meeting Cassandra again was much less violent this time around. She even found tales about his exploits funny and entertaining. Evidently, Divine Justinia found it hilarious that he managed to overcome the schism of human religion and became the undesirable number one in the eyes of most clerics and grand clerics. It was the first time that Andrastian chantry and Imperial chantry had put aside their mutual disgust to condemn an individual not associated with their religion. She found Sangrin inspiring even if she didn't agree with his chaotic approach.

Casssandra, Varic, Solas, Sangrin and his dog met with inquisition scouts in Hinderlands. The area was a mess. Sangrin proposed to get rid of the rebel templars and mages first. Otherwise, their travelling through the region would be an absolute pain in the ass. Finding their main camps was easy as they were where Sangrin expected them to be. Solas just resignedly followed the dwarf who resolved to help everyone with everything. So, before they managed to get into contact with Mother Giselle, they got rid of the aggressive rebels, helped with the food shortage, got back stolen supplies from bandits and negotiated cooperation with the cultist hiding in Winterwatch Tower.

Cassandra was the only one blindsided by the enthusiastic reception and open cooperation of the residents. As rumours proceeded Sangrin, he usually got two extreme reactions to his presence. Open easy cooperation or attack on his life. Varic wasn't new to this and Solas was also aware of “Sangrin effect” as he dubbed it. This was the main reason he insisted to ignore other opinions and let the dwarf reputation and charisma do the heavy lifting. Solas was self-aware enough to accept he wasn't a philanthropist and he didn't have the drive to help everyone equally.

The Inquisition needed to build a positive image, to be seen as decision-makers, the upholders of order and bringers of peace. While closing the rifts and the Breach would accomplish that, it wasn't enough. Solas knew that Sangrin was the one with the clearest idea of the potential all their action could have. So he just went with the flow, one insult and complain at the time. Sangrin wasn't fazed by his uncooperative attitude, he knew that elf would be a brat about all of this. In Sangrin eyes, this anger was a better response than his previous stubborn denial of reality.

This attitude wasn't endearing him to others much, but Solas wasn't really bothered by it. Sangrin was too entertained to be of any real help. It just drove Leliana up the wall. She wished to uncover Solas origins, but Sangrin knew that anything she could find wouldn't match what she expected. While Solas vague and unhelpful answers were expected, it was Sangrin dropped tips that made her feel like she was chasing her own tail. His last “helpful ideas” left her with an image of Solas as the last member of the royal elven bloodline prophesied to bring the eternal piece to the dragon race. And this was just one of many ridiculous variations he came up with. Sangrin even insisted that the elf was a dwarf under a curse at one time.

She just stared at her latest reports. How did the dwarf come up with this convoluted tales? No, how did he have vague proofs for little details to support the possibility of his outlandish claims? She knew they weren't true, but Sangrin managed to propose them as a possibility. She lay her head on the desk absolutely done with the mad dwarf. Sangrin was sure the only reason she didn't fabricate Solas origin was that she knew Solas wouldn't cooperate with her, just to make her life harder.

Even with the stubborn elf dragging his feet they met with Mother Giselle. Solas expression cycled from affronted and disgusted to resigned after their heat to heart as the priestess joined their ranks. Sangrin just snickered at the side morbidly amused. Maybe he should thank Andraste for this unending stream of entertainment. Mother Giselle offered them a way to lay the groundwork for approaching the remaining members of the Chantry. Sangrin and Solas were of a strong opinion that it was an absolute waste of time, but everybody decided to ignore their complaints and followed priestess suggestions.  


While Solas went to chase the offered leads to Val Royeaux, Sangrin proposed to get Bull's Chargers to join the Inquisition. He knew most of the members of this mercenary group and was on friendly terms with their leader Iron Bull. Besides he couldn't follow them to Val Royeaux, after all he was forbidden to enter the capital city of Orlais.

He found them on the Storm coast in the pissing contest with local bandit group, calling themselves Blades of Hessarian. Evidently, the bandit group was audacious enough to think that they had a chance against passing mercenary group. Sangrin didn't think that naïve and sweet could describe bandit leader, it was more of a haughty and dumb. But Sangrin supported the freedom of choice, that everybody had a right to decide their fate, however, dumb the decision itself was. So obviously bandits were loosing. As Sangrin joined them they were just moping the straggler who tried to run away.

“Sangrin! What brings you to this wet corner of Ferelden?” Greeted Iron Bull. Sangrin shrugged.

“Business. Are you interested in joining the inquisition?” Iron Bull gave him a sceptical expression. He knew Sangrin wasn't one for big groups or following orders.

“You joined?”

“An idiot they dubbed as herald is a friend.” Iron Bull laughed. Krem came up to them, greeted Sangrin and looked at Iron Bull.

“Good to see you again. Throat cutters are done, chief.” Iron Bull nodded. Sangrin grinned at the quanari and cut in.

“You can set up your payment with the ambassador Josephine and resolve your...additional activities with Leliana.”

Iron Bull shrugged and muttered. “And they always tell me that I am too blunt. Sure.” Then turned to Krem. “Krem, tell the men to finish drinking on the road. We've got hired!” He turned to Sangrin again with considering expression.

“You think they can do it?”

“They have the biggest chance.”

Iron Bull just sighed. “You always know where to find the most fun and excitement.”

When he brought the mercenary group to Haven their payment was settled pretty quickly, but the happiest about the addition was Cullen as it relieved some of their forces shortcomings. Sangrin could already see that he will recruit some of the mercenary members as trainers for his budding soldiers. But before they could wait for Solas return, Leliana received a panicked missive about missing inquisition soldiers. So Sangrin dragged Iron Bull and few of his Chargers to the Fallow Mire to look for them.

The place was bogged down by marshes, random rifts and walking corpses. Nothing to write home about. Fenrir disgusted whining was sign of his future rebellion if Sangrin would drag the dog here again. Scouts found out that soldiers were caught and held hostage by Avvars occupying the ruins of the Hagrave Keep. Their leader demanded a fight with the Herald. Well, they were missing their protagonist, so Sangrin just ignored the demand and decided to beat some sense into the idiotic leader. On the way, they met a Sky Watcher, who was disappointed by the missing presence of the fabled Herald. But Sangrin presented them as negotiators sent for the missing soldiers, so Watcher led them to their chief. Sangrin remembered he needed to fight through all of them in his previous past. Maybe they weren't interested in violently measuring up to the ordinary mercenaries as the main antagonist was missing.

Their chief had a few screw loose, loudly demanding the presence of inquisition's leader, presenting himself as Hand of Korth. He wasn't really interested is Solas fighting powers. He wanted to measure their faith as chosen representatives. The religious subtext was lost on Sangrin, Iron Bull and his company. Iron Bull fed up with the bragging idiot challenged him to the one on one battle. After the quanari insulted his personal preferences, family and religion, avvar at the end of his tether agreed. Sangrin was impressed, he taught that this braggart would jump in immediately. Maybe he was truly set on his fight with the Herald. Too late now.

The fight was crazy and with Iron Bull as an expected winner. Although he needed to work for that as the avvar leader also used a heavy two-handed weapon and was fairly skilled. Sangrin thought the rest of the avvar would attack them, but they just released soldiers, packed their things and decided to go back to their clan. It was pretty anticlimactic. Sangrin even managed to persuade one-third of them to join forces with the inquisition. Cullen face, when they returned with the unexpected additions, was comical. 

Solas venture to the capital of Orlais fulfilled most of Sangrin expectations. It was fruitless, the elf came back in a foul mood, but he managed to be polite enough to bring Sera and Vivienne back with him. Sangrin should truly congratulate him on his restrain. He didn't think Solas has it in himself, to hold off his condescending comments about both women. Unbelievable.

As a reward, he dragged Solas with him to get them the cooperation of a horse master. Dennet was as surly and his wife Elaina as vicious as Sangrin remembered. They had immediately hit it off and in the following week, their group had cleaned infected wolves, closed nearest rifts, got rid of the demons and inquisition started to build requested watchtowers. If nothing else the presence of horses made Solas more bearable to others, so they became more enthusiastic about horse master joining their ranks, mainly Cassandra and Vivienne.

Sangrin also badgered Solas for lessons in elven language. When Solas sceptically asked about his reasoning, Sangrin just shrugged and said.

“You miss speaking in your language and there are few people that are truly proficient in it. Besides, could you see the faces of dalish elves when they meet the dwarf speaking their language?”

Solas lips twitched. “Are you that bored?”

“No, but I love that floored expression the people around us have when they are met with something unexpected.”

“You have a warped sense of humour.”

“I don't want to hear that from you...”

They also started a game with Sera called “Noble quests of Red Jenny”. Each of them would propose a target, usually, some stuck up noble, and each presented their own most chaotic way to make chosen nobles' life utterly miserable. In the beginning, Sera and Solas got into a lot of explosive arguments until Solas managed to unbent enough to have fun. Varic joined them to satisfy his writers' deficiency and even Cassandra chimed in from time to time to propose a suitable target. Sangrin felt mighty accomplished when some of the most outlandish proposals came to life at the hands of Red Jenny.

They needed to decide their next actions. The advisors were in an amazing tiff because they couldn't decide who to approach. Cullen and Leliana were practically at each other throat about the issue. They needed help in the closing of the Breach and they could either go to rebel mages hiding in Redcliff or stuffy templars who retreated to the garrison in Therinfall Redoubt. Sangrin knew they needed to act quickly or templars would become demons chew toy and mages would succumb to false promises of Venatori.

He wasn't sure why Solas needed to be present for each negotiation. It's not like the elf could duplicate himself or that he needed to do everything on his own. Both issues were time-sensitive and they had enough people to carry both negotiations at the same time. The issue of the two groups working together could be addressed after they weren't in immediate danger. It would also put a wrench in Corypheus plans. In Sangrin eyes, it was a win-win situation.

So he proposed that Solas could go save templars like a prince charming on a white steed, while he can negotiate with mages hiding in Redcliff. They couldn't afford to leave possible victims to Corypheus to enrich his forces. Besides he was on good terms with Tegan and he knew that even if mages were approached by Venatori, there won't be any time travelling involved as magister Alexius had become a changed man and Sangrin knew he didn't join forces with the fanatics.

He also suggested to Leliana that they could recruit said magister to their side as his and his wife research had close ties to their current problem. While Solas could close rifts, it was demanding and time-consuming. With the help of the two researchers, they could find other ways to close the rifts or at least seal them for some time until Solas could get around to sealing them properly.

Solas also dragged out the detailed stories behind the current displeasure the chantries had with Sangrin. It left him and Sera in stitches as they laughed like loons they were. Varic on the other hand was delighted to hear the true accounts of tales behind exaggerated rumour circling around and promptly put them on the paper. They were even better then what he imagined when he heard the aforementioned rumours. He doubted he could publish them with chantry current mood, but it was a possibility in the future.

Sangrin also realized that while Solas was still snippy and condescending, he was missing that holier than thou edge to his attitude. He still wasn't sure what changed elf decision, but he could hope that this transition would be permanent. While Solas cunning side shined through it wasn't aimed at some shadowy calculations. No, unexpectedly, elf proved himself alarmingly petty and his scheming just made his victims day worse in some way.

What Sangrin found hilarious was the fact that it usually backfired at the elf in some way. His spats with Leliana helped their spymaster in cleaning her ranks of traitors, his planned traps for Cullen helped their commander in devising unusual but extremely effective training plan and his secret nabs prepared for Josephine helped the woman immensely in her negotiation with stuck up nobles. It was usually a long term effect and as the elf didn't bother to give his attention to unimportant personal details, he also wasn't aware of positive effects his childish tantrums brought. So after Solas saw his victim's mood plummet for the day, he was content to make people around him “suffer”. Best entertainment ever.


	14. Unknown plans and uncertain future

Sangrin was sitting on a bench with his back pressed to the wall. Solas was sitting on his right side, while Cassandra occupied the left. They were sharing chocolate cookies and watching others argue heatedly. While Leliana and Cullen were most vocal, Josephine wasn't left behind. They even managed to drag Vivianne into the argument when she came looking for Josephine. They were at it already at least for an hour, but their argument didn't show any signs of calming down. On the contrary, they were getting louder and more unreasonable as time passed.  
  
“You would think they would be happy about a proposal for double negotiations.” Chimed Sangrin contemplatively.  
  
“Oh, they are.” Agreed Cassandra. Both Solas and Sangrin levelled her with sceptical looks.  
  
“Isn't this counterproductive then?” Solas waved his hand in the direction of quarrelling adults.  
  
“They aren't arguing about your approach. That is set as you proposed, Sangrin. The Herald will investigate templars retreat, while you will begin negotiations with Grand Enchanter Fiona.” She looked at the confused faces of two men and quietly chuckled. “They got sidetracked by the decision of which positions each group should fill and how to accomplish it.”  
  
Sangrin was full of confusion.  
  
“But we haven't got the cooperation of either group yet. We are leaving Haven tomorrow morning.”  
  
Cassandra just nodded. They all looked at the escalating argument with an unamused expression. Solas and Sangrin shared a look and promptly stood up.  
  
“Good luck.” Said Solas to Cassandra.  
  
Sangrin nodded. “We are leaving it to you.”  
  
They left the room in hurry, leaving behind horrified and offended Casssandra. They didn't spare her another look. The rest of the people room didn't even react to their departure. Too busy yelling at each other.  
  
“She will get us back for that.” Hummed Sangrin. Solas nodded in agreement.  
  
“Obviously.”  
  
“You are the one, who will be travelling with her to Therinfall Redoubt.”  
  
Solas face froze and he glared at grinning Sangrin.  
  
“You are a spawn of evil.” Cursed Solas out through his clenched teeth. Sangrin just quietly chuckled at the seething elf. The night was quiet and cold. It started snowing again while they were witnessing the wreck of a decision making process. Sangrin now understood why they needed someone in charge, they were incapable of getting to the decision all of them could agree on.  
  
“Why go through all of this again?” Asked Solas quietly.  
  
“Because this time it's you who stepped into the shit. Besides you should enjoy the full experience, it might inspire you.” Quipped Sangrin back. Solas waved his hand to encompass the quiet night around them.  
  
“All of this doesn't really bring the feeling of reassurance or capability.”  
  
“We still managed to do it in the end.”  
  
Solas was quiet for a moment.  
  
“It wasn't what I wanted and I don't know where it went wrong. But you were right...time passed and I forgot my reasons and motives.” Solas scoffed. “Maybe we can...”  
  
“No.”  
  
“What? You don't even know what I wa...”  
  
“No!”  
  
Sangrin glared at Solas.  
  
“Your stay in fade was clearly detrimental. Stop sounding like a demon, bargaining will get you nowhere!” Offended Solas gave Sangrin a haughty look.  
  
“I do not...”  
  
“Yes, you do!” Sangrin gave the elf a resigned look. Solas face was expressionless, he clenched his jaw and ground his teeth. He looked away from Sangrin. They both knew the mess it all ended in and still...Sangrin sighed quietly.  
  
“Just...there is most probably a demon pulling strings behind templars. Cole should be there, he will help you. Bring back the ones that are still alive and we will think of a way to make it work.”  
  
With this as his last words, Sangrin left Solas behind and went to his cabin. They would be leaving early in the morning, it was time to get some sleep.  
  
  
  
  
Sangrin part of the quest at earning inquisition new allies went smoothly. He and Fenrir got rid of the invading Venatori and with the help of Vivianne they double-teamed their negotiation efforts against Grand Enchanter. She didn't stand a chance. As mages hadn't caused any disturbances in Redcliff and Venatori didn't manage to disrupt it, negotiations went as peacefully as possible.  
  
While Sangrin agreed that mages needed an oversight, Circles weren't an answer as their corruption run deep and templars purpose and powers got perverted with time. Also, Chantry was currently in shambles, so they wouldn't pose any block in possible reformation. With the help of Vivienne and Fiona he created a proposal for an inquisition institute of higher learning for mages. No harrowing, no rigid control and no tranquil solution, but an oversight, proper instructions and rules. Clear reasoning for restriction of certain magics and their impact on mages themselves. If nothing else their self-preservation should hold their greed in check.  
  
This was inspired by future divine Leliana and her reforms for mages. It wasn't very popular at the beginning, but Sangrin saw it working and making lives of hundreds of mages better and easier. It also got rid of the most fear and prejudices heaped on the magic users. Sangrin planned to walk in her steps in this, avoiding her blunders and inquisition could convert it's purpose more easily at the end of their strife with Corypheus.  
  
Vivienne and Fiona stopped arguing after seeing the first draft of Sangrin proposal and even presented ideas he didn't cover in it. This was a great chance for mages and both enchanters planned to size it. Sangrin let them duke it out between themselves. Once the proposition was accepted by overwhelmed advisors, he spread the world about planned new inquisition institute. In upcoming months many mages flocked under the inquisition banner, which made Vivienne and Fiona very busy.  
  
Solas wasn't as lucky. Corypheus aware of his snowy dip in Haven attacked Solas in the middle of his rescue of templars instead. Unfortunately for Corypheus, the anchor proved to be attached to Solas. After all, it belonged to him from the very beginning and the elf was slowly absorbing its power. Corypheus in his rage decided to kill them all. Sangrin when listening to the report wasn't sure how they managed to live through that with most of the unpossessed templars alive and intact. It was quite inspiring.  
  
Upon their return to Haven, Solas was surprised but supportive of the Sangrin proposal for the mages. He didn't have a high opinion of the Circles, but this might prove to be a better choice. It had a notion for reform and could prove world-changing. Solas knew that the dwarf was building it on his future knowledge and they just needed to put it in practice. Templars weren't as supportive. No, they proved to be an absolute pain in the ass and their disputes with mages were escalating. After some racist dick injured a child mage, Sangrin blew his top.  
  
Solas knew that the dwarf had a violent temper, but he mostly held it in check. Solas was also the only one aware that the only thing keeping Sangrin in line was his own willpower and that no one could stop him once he was on a warpath. The mages who knew Sangrin longer than unfortunate templars immediately showed their deference as he stepped in. Solas just stood on the side with his advisors and companions, who watched with undisguised awe as the incensed dwarf bent and pushed all the templars into submission.  
  
Sangrin could be easily compared to a dragon as he was practically spitting fire in his rage. The vindictive dwarf ordered them to start to wean off their lyrium addiction as they were the most endangered group by their growing exposure to the red lyrium. The lecture was long-winded, graphic and brutal, but there was no other followup unrest. Sangrin promised to give a personal touch to anyone who broke the status quo.  
  
There were a few stupid ones to test it in the upcoming days. The following trauma and newly added brutally enforced regulations repelled any other attempts at rebellion. The rest of the inquisition members were astonished by following peaceful cooperation, but Sangrin was like a devil at their back, waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting lamb to devour. He was a great enforcer.  
  
He was also providing chantry with new proofs of his evil existence. Sangrin found it hilarious that his negative reputation was starting to overshadow the awe-inspiring persona of Herald of Andraste. The Chantry also cautioned against his corrupting ways and that he will lead the Herald astray. Sangrin wasn't sure if clerics were aware that by spreading this rumours around they gave more credit to Solas as true Herald of Andraste than any open appeal could. But when Solas and Sangrin heard that particular rumour they lost it and cackled together and Solas wholeheartedly agreed that he was being led astray by the evil dwarf. Sangrin knew that his second run at life was bizarre.

With the help of mages, they successfully closed the Breach and then relocated to Skyhold. Sangrin truly missed the place. Haven was great and this time left untouched by the horde, but it wasn't the headquarters Inquisition needed. It was a shame Corypheus hadn't attacked, they might have even put up a proper fight this time. Instead, they slowly relocated to the castle. The repair effort went as swiftly as before, while Solas and his companions went around closing the rifts.  
  
Their efforts doubled after magister Alexius accepted inquisition request for help with the fade rifts. He brought his wife, son and Dorian with him. Fenrir greeted his soulmate Felix with all pomp only a mabari could provide. Which left Dorian and subsequently Sangrin eating dirt. Sangrin lying on the ground next to swearing Dorian just resignedly sighed. Dorian gave him a dark look.  
  
“I will pin up the hide of that mangy beast on top of our fireplace.”  
  
“Good luck with that. Fenrir promised not to bite you, but make sure to wear a proper armour.”  
  
Dorian just huffed and stalked into the keep. Sangrin chuckled. Fenrir was a great dog, a little handful, but life was so much more fun with him at Sangrin side.  
  
Cole also attached himself to Sangrin. Sangrin became an unofficial consultant to the whacky spirit. Not only could dwarf sense him, mostly thanks to his unwanted lyrium decorations occupying his hand, but his hurt felt different to Cole. While Sangrin hurt was there, it wasn't festering wound, hard scar or pushed away bruise covered with layers of time. It was like he could mould his hurt, soften it and spread it around, adding new layers that didn't hurt around it. He didn't need spirit to help to manage his hurt. Cole knew that old people who lived their life without festering regrets could do it too. But Sangrin wasn't old, was he?  
  
So he pestered the dwarf until Sangrin, Sera and Cole created an all-purpose pranking group. Like this Sera found a way to use her excess energy, Cole learned more about emotions and interactions and Sangrin found willing contributors to spread his brand of chaos around. Only Solas managed to keep his dignity intact, mostly thanks to his magic and deeper understanding of Sangrin brand of humour. The rest learned hard way to keep the dwarf occupied.  
  
  
  
  
Sangrin was sitting on ramparts, watching the bustling activity around slowly rebuilt Skyhold, and enjoying the afternoon sun. The world around him was the same and also different. He was happy to be a part of this changing world. Solas came quietly and joined Sangrin or ramparts. Sangrin eyed the quiet elf.  
  
“How's the mark?”  
  
Solas gave him a condescending look. “It's mine and it's magic.” Sangrin rolled his eyes, but it did answer his question about elf well-being. Sangrin sighed. He will ignore the pompous moron in the future. “You are a dick.”  
  
“You've already stated that.”  
  
“Pompous bastard.”  
  
“Stubborn dimwit.”  
  
After some quiet contemplation, Solas asked. “Do we need to deal with Orlais?  
  
Sangrin grinned at the whining elf. “I thought you would enjoy some court intrigue.”  
  
Solas grimaced. “I do not particularly enjoy the company of prejudiced deficient humans.”  
  
“Way to be racist and judgemental Solas. Must be that old age you are sporting...makes you inflexible.” Retorted Sangrin sarcastically. Solas looked resignedly around.  
  
“I wish I could strangle you...”  
  
Sangrin chuckled quietly. “If you do, then the Chantry might consecrate you.”  
  
Solas nodded with the serious look on his face. “And that's the main reason I am not even contemplating the action.” Both of them grinned and laughed. When the silence descended between them Sangrin mused aloud.  
  
“We don't really know what he wanted to do with the empress and if her death was truly his goal. Or if it was just one big distraction, while he gobbled up grey wardens and drank Well of Sorrows.”  
  
“Which you, in your previous capacity as Herald, prevented.”  
  
“Well, then we should follow in my footsteps and make sure the wackadoodle won't tear the world around us.” An awkward expression wrecked Solas face. Sangrin rolled his eyes at Solas. “I don't think he will do any of that. Would you try something again even if it was doomed from the start? Trying the same thing and expecting a different results is the definition of insanity, but I don't think our darkspawn is that kind of insane. More in the line of becoming a god.”  
  
Solas sighed. “They weren't gods.”  
  
“It's not really stopping him to try it himself, is it?” Sangrin frowned and eyed subdued elf. He stood up. “Come on.”  
  
Solas frowned as he looked at Sangrin. “Where do you want to go?” Sangrin shrugged.  
  
“Anywhere. It's time to spread some fun because you are just depressing.”  
  
Solas gave him an offended look. “I am not.”  
  
“You sure about that? Look, we will let Leliana do her thing, while we are going to get us a keep in Emprise Du Lion.”  
  
Solas grunted. “Can't we get one in The Western Approach?”  
  
“No. I am not going to trudge through sweltering sand.”  
  
“And the snow is any better? You are a dwarf Sangrin, there is a better chance for you to be swallowed up by snow than drowned in quicksand.”  
  
“Are you implying I am short?!”  
  
“There is no need, it is a fact.”  
  
They continued to bicker on their way to the castle.

They ended up in Crestwood. The negotiations with the soldiers occupying Caer Bronach were a success and Inquisition established a working relationship with the military outpost and the nearest town. Yes, it was a Town of Crestwood instead of a village as Sangrin remembered. Sangrin and Solas just stared unsure how to react to the bustling town with newly built fortifications. Their companions gave them side glances because of their obvious surprise.  
  
Sangrin could still remember that depressing village with a dark history. But none of it happened here. As the Blight hadn't reached north of Ferelden, most of the people escaping darkspawn and taint ended up here, in Amaranthine or Denerim. There was no submerged part of the Old Crestwood filled with spirits and demons. But a lively growing city. They were happy to see Herald and Inquisition as Solas went around closing the rifts in the region and stabilizing the veil with the help of the artefacts.  
  
All in all this second take at inquisition wasn't as desperate as the one before. While Chantry was still fully against them and Ferelden fell into deep chaos because of the Breach, with the successful closure of the main rift they managed to gain the cooperation of King Cailan. This acknowledgement of their organization led to the spread acceptance of inquisition as potential coverage for unmoored templars and mages. If they manage to calm the conflict then they would probably end up responsible for them as well. There will be a lot of political issues at the end of this shit show. Poor Solas.  
  
Luck wasn't really on their side, so of course, Solas, Sangrin, Fenrir and Varic got surrounded by wyverns while searching for clues of Corypheus latest movements. While they were trying to rebuff the persistent creatures, Sangrin fell through the covered exit of the tunnel system. It was complex and not all of it made naturally. Sangrin looked around. He knew most of the tunnels under Ferelden, but these were new. At least they weren't attached to the Deep Roads previously. So curious. He decided to snoop around.  
  
While they were going deeper and deeper into the tunnel system, Sangrin felt unsettled. This was reminding him about the time he ended up in the Dead Trenches and then stumbled upon the archdemon. Fenrir growled lowly, they could hear the sounds of a fight deeper into the tunnels. Hopefully, he was just being paranoid. When they turned the corner they saw the tunnel expand into the natural cavern system. The sounds of battle came from here.  
  
They crept closer to observe the situation. Varric made a quiet sound of surprise. It was grey wardens fighting each other and Sangrin knew two women losing the fight. Without a second thought, he joined the battle, stabilizing their crumbling defence.  
  
“Sangrin?!” Gasped Rica when she saw their saviour. Kallian made a sound of recognition and let Solas with Fenrir take her place. With the fresh help, they subdued the attacking wardens. While Varic and Kallian bound and gagged their captives, Rica thanked them for their timely help. After quick introductions, Sangrin asked about their situation. Rica looked at the bound wardens.  
  
“They are not in their right mind.”  
  
“You mean they've gone crazy?” Asked Varic eyeing them as well.  
  
“No...yes...I don't know.” She looked at Sangrin. “It started when we sent you our last letter. Warden-commander Clarel and his lot started to act suspiciously. They hunted the blood mages for some kind of weird ritual. They disregarded our objections and even pulled most of the anderfels warden to their side.”  
  
Solas and Sangrin grimly looked at each other. Varic frowned and asked.  
  
“What do you mean pull to their side? You are all grey wardens.”  
  
Kallian shook her head. “We started to hear the Calling. All of us, at once. Everybody panicked that it was the sign of the upcoming blight, but that's bullshit. We just ended one and there was no build-up for another. We...uhm...the ferelden branch started to question their actions and ended up declared rebels.”  
  
Rica nodded. “We tried to reason with them when that didn't help, we tried to disrupt their plans.”  
  
“It doesn't seem to be working for you.” Said Sangrin.  
  
“No, we just ended up being hunted.” Sighed Rica.  
  
Varic summed their thoughts when he cursed aloud. “Well, shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The world still has its leaders, the boring darkspawn didn't try to kill any of them yet...inquisition doesn't need to try to patch it all up. It will probably go up in flames in one fell swoop...because Corypheus doesn't sound like a guy who will waste his energy on useless things. Plus he lost most of his potential recruits thanks to Sangrin...oooh he probably hates the dwarf.


End file.
